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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26407282">Hearts Stand Still</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eiruwei/pseuds/Eiruwei'>Eiruwei</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hearts Stand Still [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Content warnings at the beginning of relevant chapters, Family, Foreknowledge, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hope, Ninja Politics, OC insert, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, SI OC - Freeform, SI OC insert, Suffering, Team Minato lives, Violence, War, it's kind of a Fix-It fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:13:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>137,949</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26407282</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eiruwei/pseuds/Eiruwei</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Against a backdrop of bloody violence, a young Leaf kunoichi lives her life in chase of those strange, painful threads called hope. </p><p>—Or, Suzu Namikaze puts the finishing touches on her novel's new manuscript and sends it to Jiraiya of the Sannin for perusal.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jiraiya (Naruto) &amp; Original Character(s), Namikaze Minato &amp; Original Character(s), Namikaze Minato/Uzumaki Kushina, Team Minato (Naruto) &amp; Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hearts Stand Still [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919353</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Beginning of a New Story</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Dear Jiraiya-sama,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Here it is, as polished as I can make it. I looked at all of your editorial comments and I've fixed the most egregious errors. It's not perfect, but I doubt it ever will be.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tell me when you're free and we'll set up a date to go through the parts that need cuts and censoring.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thanks for your hard work!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Suzu</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>HEARTS STAND STILL</p><p><em>by </em>Misuzu Namikaze</p>
<hr/><p>to YOSHIYA MIYAZAWA</p>
<hr/><p>AUTHOR'S NOTE:</p><p>This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.</p>
<hr/><p>I blinked awake into hazy, sticky summer heat. The grass in front of me was wavering, distorted by the scorching sun, and all at once I became aware of the sweat on my neck, of my skin sticking to the wood of the veranda, of the cloth on my back clinging damply to my shoulders…</p><p>There were several blond children playing in the yard in front of me, standing in a circle. They were kicking a—it was not a shuttlecock, not quite, but a feathered something that flew in long, high arcs when they hit it back and forth among themselves (1). Despite the punishing heat, they seemed to be enjoying themselves. I spent a few blank minutes staring at them, bewildered.</p><p>Where… was I?</p><p>Slowly, I turned my head through the hot, stagnant air and looked over my shoulder. The room behind me was utterly foreign. The furniture was small; the sitting room behind me had sitting cushions cast about a low-to-the-ground table; there was a long painted scroll on the wall. A woman was sitting on the floor there, cooing and tickling the tummies of a pair of infants, and a man was beside her, absently patting the behind of the baby on his shoulder.</p><p>I stared blankly at them, too. Like the children in the yard, they were blond, and when they turned their heads to look at me, I could see that they both had blue eyes. They murmured to each other for a moment, and though the language they spoke in seemed like gibberish, it was somehow completely comprehensible at the same time.</p><p>The man handed his baby to the woman and then got up and came over to me. "A summer fever?" he asked speculatively, kneeling down and putting a hand on my forehead. Japanese, I realized after a moment. He was speaking Japanese.</p><p>"Just overheating, maybe," the woman proposed from across the way. The man hummed and stood up again, disappearing through a through a door off to our right before returning with a glass of water and a plastic baggie full of ice. He handed me the water before crouching down next to me and pressing the ice to the back of my neck. I held in a yelp.</p><p>"You're quiet today, Suzu," he commented as he peered at me through the sides of his eyeglasses. I fidgeted silently. He was, I observed, not particularly ugly or handsome. His hair was cut short and his chin was sharp... but what stood out most about him, I soon decided, was his even-sharper gaze. I knew right away that I was looking at an extremely intelligent man.</p><p>"Sorry?" I squeaked, a little intimidated. He gave me a strange look, as if to wonder what in the world I had to fear from him.</p><p>"Did you break something?" he asked me, eyebrows rising. Quite suddenly, my moment of quiet terror was mowed over by a swell of indignation.</p><p>"I did not!" I found myself protesting hotly, feeling at once both offended and oddly petulant.</p><p>"Hm," the man said, and eyed me for a puzzled moment before shrugging. The flash of anger passed as quickly as it came, and then I was left to sit there with his hand holding ice on the back of my neck, blinking through the sudden whirlwind of emotions that had just torn through me.</p><p>It was at that point that I realized something was wrong. Something about that angry reaction was… peculiar. Something about the feel of my own skin was strange. Something about this house of full of blond-haired, blue-eyed, Japanese strangers was...</p><p>"I'm home," a voice called from the doorway.</p><p>Both the woman and the man perked up, and I turned my head just in time to catch sight of a teenager walking in. As he was shedding a green vest and dropping it over the back of a chair, my brain lit up with recognition, and then one half of me was jerking up into a standing position and making to run forward. The other half was dropping its jaw in incredulity.</p><p>Was that… Minato Namikaze?</p><p>Though it was still somewhat rounded with youth, his face was undeniably the face of Naruto's father. His hair was as spiky as it had been in the drawings, too. It would have been utterly bizarre had it not looked so unnaturally... natural. He glanced at me smiled.</p><p>The second shock of the day came then, because he came over, crouched, and hoisted me up onto his hip. "Hey, Suzu," he said fondly as he ruffled my hair with one hand. "How're you today? You look a little flushed."</p><p>"Think she's just feeling a bit hot," the man with the ice said as I hung limply in Minato Namikaze's arms, shocked. I had just been picked up. Picked up and put on a hip, like a child.</p><p>No, I realized as I looked down at my hand and saw five short, skinny digits sprouting from a tiny palm. It was not that I was like a child. I <em>was </em>a child.</p><p>"Suzu?" Minato asked concernedly when I found myself suddenly have to put my head down on his shoulder, feeling very dizzy and disoriented. "Suzu—ojisan? Uncle Souhei, I think there's something wrong with—"</p>
<hr/><p>Misuzu Namikaze was a five-year-old orphan who had been born in Konohagakure no Sato and raised by Reiko and Souhei of the Namikaze clan. Alongside about twelve other parentless children, she lived in a large but old traditional Japanese home referred to by the members of her clan as "the House." Among the orphans she lived with was also the sixteen-year-old Minato Namikaze, a newly-minted jounin and the future Yondaime Hokage.</p><p>Suzu enjoyed a fairly normal, if not somewhat riotous, home life. She had a great many playmates and she got on well with all the ones who were her age. She was also a fairly athletic child, though that seemed to be par for the course with most of the people around here. She was due to start schooling at the Ninja Academy with her three cousins Chiharu, Jinta, and Akira next year in April, and was currently receiving some basic, preliminary education from her caretakers.</p><p>I discovered all of this through context and several carefully-disguised questions after awakening upstairs in the girls' room. I had, apparently, passed out due to heat exhaustion while being carried by my Minato-niichan. As I'm sure it can be imagined, I was not terribly serene when the picture came together, but I managed to keep a lid on everything until I'd found a suitably private place to freak out.</p><p>Surreal was the only word to describe it. The plot of the popular anime <em>Naruto</em> was clear in my mind, and it was unmistakable that I was in Konoha right now; a trip to the front yard and a look at the mountains was enough to confirm that. But what in the world did it mean? What does one do when presented with this sort of situation? The people living here were all incredibly real. They talked, they walked, they ate, they sweated, they chuckled and snorted and argued... they were alive, like any normal people. To call them imaginary or fiction would be laughable. They were just that existent.</p><p>So was I in a story right now? Or perhaps more to the point—did it <em>matter</em>?</p><p>I quickly came to the conclusion that it didn't. One day among the inhabitants of the House had me realizing that I was very much in love with Suzu Namikaze's family. The reverse was true, too; she was one among many, but she was still a greatly cherished child. During her convalescence she was lavished with attention from all directions. Her cousins hung around her and played games with her and kept her company; Reiko made her favorite pork potstickers for dinner to cheer her up after her illness; she even got to share a secret popsicle with Souhei when everyone else went outside into the searing summer heat.</p><p>It wasn't long, of course, before I discovered that this kind of home environment was so rare that it might have been the one of the only ones existent within all of Konoha's ninja population. The people of the Namikaze clan's House were probably the most functional family a child without a civilian background could ever hope for. The orphans here were very well-adjusted.</p><p>In that vein, I found that life had become shockingly enjoyable. Somehow the games of hide-and-seek and tag and jump rope were even more magical than they ever had been; there were some mornings that I was so eager to start games of kebane and double Dutch that I would be tempted to throw tantrums if I was forced to brush my teeth and dress myself before I was allowed to run down to the yard with my cousins.</p><p>It was fun, I admit, but it made me confused, too. Somehow it seemed to me that I was too old for these sorts of things. Adults didn't do that sort of thing, and I was an adult, wasn't I? Even if my body didn't match up with that, I had such vivid memories of being taller and moving about life as a grown woman. I couldn't be a child.</p><p>But that vein of thought quickly fell away. The realization came on the day of my sixth birthday, when I had squealed and jumped and trembled with so much excitement that I thought my very heart would burst with anticipation. Regardless of the odd dissonance now ringing in my head, I <em>was </em>a child. I was Suzu Namikaze, age six. That was my name and this was my life. The games, the giggles, the excitement—that was just me being me. A kid. A little girl.</p><p>And that, I realized, was okay. The more I thought about them, the more memories of the place called Earth seemed foreign and faraway. Whatever happened in them was different from what was happening now, and the now was full of joy. The food, though plain, was good, and the games were always going. There was no shortage of friends to play with, and there was plenty of affection to go around. Poor, but happy: that was us, the people of the Namikaze clan's House.</p><p>Of course, if I had thought on those memories a little harder, I might have realized that these days would end. I would have tried a little harder to reach for a civilian life. Instead of rushing into the wondrous world of ninjas, I could have concerned myself with other things. Instead thinking about what career path I could take to become a jounin, I could have focused on what sort other jobs I might enjoy, what sort of man I'd like to marry, and what kind of family I'd like to have... Even if I did go to ninja school, it would have been easy to end my journey as a shinobi there. After all, plenty of Konoha's citizens attended the Academy, enjoyed brief stints as genin and chuunin, and then retired to live regular lives. I could have done the same, and then settled down to work down at Hisame-jii's kimono shop, where I would become a reputable seamstress, meet a nice man, get married...</p><p>Such a life would have been in my reach if I had only been of the mind to grasp for it. But I didn't.</p><p>Why? Well, if I were to name the root cause, I'd probably call it Minato Namikaze.</p>
<hr/><p>Concentrated hero worship: that was what Minato usually came home to. It was hardly unexpected; never minding the fact that most of the clan already considered him a star—he was, after all, the youngest jounin the Namikaze had ever produced—we idolized him enough just by his merits as an older brother. He was an excellent playmate, capable of fulfilling all roles: epic hero, evil villain, knight in shining armor, hostage, comrade… one only had to name his job and he would execute it with aplomb. He also brought us souvenirs from his missions: specialty candy from castle towns, pretty seashells from the coast, and whatever other little trinkets he picked up during his travels. He thought of us often and always had a little something for everyone.</p><p>After I grew up a bit and learned just how much work it is being a jounin, it was plain to see that Minato spent an inappropriately large amount of time with us as children. Between missions, training, fuuinjutsu studies, jutsu invention, and a serious relationship with his then-girlfriend, it was a wonder that his health had held up. When had he even had the time to sleep? But as a child, I never knew. All I knew, really, was that he was amazing and I wanted to be exactly like him: cool, smart, and a great ninja.</p><p>Oh, how foolish it was to think that I had needed to become Minato. He was just as tired and troubled as anyone; no one lived the squeaky-clean, picture-perfect life I had thought he lived. That was another lesson I could have avoided learning the hard way if only I'd stopped to consider the experiences that had been given to me. After all, it wasn't every day that a child had the autobiography of a grown woman imprinted directly into her brain. If I'd used just a little bit of that information—just thought a little bit more from that adult's perspective—things surely would have gone another way.</p><p>But perhaps it didn't matter. Being a kid here wasn't like being a kid there. There, being a kid meant being part of a special, protected class. Here, it meant nothing—not anything beyond having shorter limbs and less experience, anyway. Anyone old enough to hold a knife and point it at the enemy was old enough to be a killer, and in those days, the village wanted a <em>lot</em> of them. Their ninjas were expiring quicker than they were being produced, and Konoha needed replacements, fast. With no option of a draft—adult civilians just couldn't be put on par with ninjas who had been trained from childhood—we were the next best option.</p><p>Things were not as they should have been, I know. We had been at war, and it had been no petty conflict. That war had been a great war; the third installment of <em>The</em> Wars, as history would have it. And it had been one of unprecedented attrition, one that had plummeted Konoha's military power into an all-time low... it had had the village administration shoving children through the Academy as fast as they could go, crossing their fingers and hoping that something would stick, before throwing them out onto the battlefield with little else more than a prayer.</p><p>How much cannon fodder had been consumed in that conflict? "Too much" would probably be a good answer. The number of shinobi left in my generation is tiny. Entire family lines ended in my childhood—that is how badly we were decimated.</p><p>We were never told much of that sad reality, though. Our enemies weren't going anywhere, and neither was the war. Even if it would only add to the death tolls, there was nothing to do but prettify the carnage and slog on. What could the previous generation have done besides march on through the violence, consoling its children with heroic fantasies and dreams of glorious, honorable deaths on the battlefield? If there had been a path to peace, they'd been too blinded by the never-ending veil of bloodshed to see it. Stopping the fight only meant losing those children they were trying protect.</p><p>So they kept telling their legends, and we listened. Unlike Naruto, no one had been there to stop us from declaring that we wanted our names on the Memorial Stone. No one was there to stop our dreams from becoming reality, either.</p><p>I never dreamed that my friends or I would ever come to real harm. With Minato as an example, it was easy to believe we could breeze through our ninja careers without suffering more than a concussion or two. He never got hurt beyond a few cuts and bruises, after all; why would we believe things would go differently for us? He didn't, so we didn't. None of us stopped to think of how he suffered behind the scenes, hiding the worst of his injuries from us, or of the comrades that he silently endured losing, or of blood on his hands and the lives resting on his shoulders. No one considered the sleepless nights he spent thinking about them all.</p>
<hr/><p>I went into the Academy with a head full of dreams. My objective was set: Minato would be my goal. As the man himself, he encouraged us sportingly, just as an upright jounin burning with the Will of Fire should have. As expected of him, really. He was the very picture of a reliable Leaf shinobi.</p><p>Despite my idyllic imaginings, though, I hit my first snag right away: my cousins and I were sorted into different classes. This caused me considerable apprehension. While I wasn't totally socially inept, I was not a particularly gregarious person. Even the adult I could now remember being had not been terribly skilled in the art of making friends, either.</p><p>I did not quite cry—though, with goading, I do confess to a few anxious sniffles—and my cousins didn't <em>really</em> go out of their way to give me hugs and assure me they would find me at recesses, but that was how the chips fell. For better or for worse, though, I wasn't disillusioned with my choices right away. As it so happened, on the first day of class, I ended up being seated next to the boy who would eventually become one of the best friends of my life.</p><p>Akihiko Namikaze was his name. Because we were from the same clan, we were related, but rather distantly; we called each other cousins, but in reality we would probably have to go back several generations to find our common ancestor. Unlike me, he <em>was</em> gregarious. Outgoing, cheerful, friendly… for him, just being deskmates was cause enough to declare me a super best friend. And, as far as I could tell, that was a relatively high office. Endowed with such a position, there was only about one other person that could beat me out in terms of ranking.</p><p>I met that person right away, since he was sitting on Akihiko's other side. He was called Yoshiya Miyazawa; or, rather, "super most <em>besterest</em> friend." Because their fathers had been on a team together, he and Akihiko had known each other since infancy, and they had spent many an afternoon together as playmates. Despite their avowed most besterest friendness, though, theirs was a vitriolic friendship. In fact, if they hadn't introduced themselves as friends to me, I might've mistaken them for vicious rivals. They were constantly competing and trying to trip each other up—figuratively and literally—and they insulted each other incessantly, as though it were as necessary as breathing. It was a decidedly odd relationship.</p><p>Yoshiya was thoroughly unlike Akihiko. Never minding their wildly contrary sartorial sense—where Akihiko tended to wear blindly bright red shirts, Yoshiya often dressed in greens and browns and blacks—their personalities were utterly dissimilar. Akihiko was gregarious, but Yoshiya was taciturn and aloof. When I had introduced myself to him, he had only crossed his arms, curtly replied with his name, and ignored my attempt at a handshake. It was only a little mortifying; he had given everyone who had greeted him the same treatment. It seemed like he was just that kind of person, which made me wonder how an agreeable boy like Akihiko got on with such an unpleasant character.</p><p>Well, that was my first impression. But then Akihiko laughed and smacked him on the back—probably a lot harder than was warranted—and said, "You don't have to act tough. It's safe! She's friends with me now."</p><p>Yoshiya's cheeks tinted pink. "I'm not acting tough," he mumbled, looking away and seeming to shrink in on himself. Suddenly, he seemed a lot less like an Uchiha-tier snob and more like a timid kitten.</p><p>"You're <em>shy</em>," I realized, enlightened, as the pieces came together in my head. Well, that made sense. I had memories of affecting the demeanor of a frigid bitch to ward away strangers, too.</p><p>"He is!" Akihiko laughed again and jabbed his friend in the ribs. "He's been putting on this show all day! His dad told him all he had to do was pretend he wasn't nervous, but even though he practiced for a whole month, he's still trying to scare away as many people as possible. Isn't he hilarious?"</p><p>Yoshiya scowled furiously and batted his hand away. "Watch what you say to people, moron!" he hissed as he went from pink to red. "This is why you're an idiot."</p><p>"You wanna start something?" Akihiko quickly shot back and got to his feet. Yoshiya rose too, glowering with arms crossed.</p><p>I thought they might get into a fistfight—Akihiko, I soon discovered, was always ready to test his mettle in a good, old-fashioned slugfest—but Yoshiya eventually turned up his nose and hmmpthed like he was a prince.</p><p>"I won't waste my time with the likes you," he declared loftily, in the manner of someone mimicking a line from a book or a TV show.</p><p>"You're just scared that you'll lose like you always do," Akihiko smugly replied. "No matter how many clones you can make or henges you can do, after all, <em>I</em> can still put my fist in your face."</p><p>Yoshiya looked away and sniffed derisively in reply.</p>
<hr/><p>Observing my new friends at the Academy became my most fascinating pastime. Though I enjoyed the physical component of our education quite a bit—in the Earth-memories I distinctly recalled being ill in a way that prevented me from most strenuous activity, but as myself I could somehow run and stretch and jump like I never had before, and it was exhilarating—I found the rest of our work rather unstimulating. Writing and reading comprehension were interesting to me, but the math worksheets, logic puzzles, and coloring exercises became very stale very early on. Even chakra class, which should have been perhaps the most exciting part of the Academy, was horrifically boring; because we were still young, we mostly spent our time sitting around meditating.</p><p>I won't claim to be an ultra-disciplined warrior monk, and I won't say that I never fidgeted or had to deal with a lot of pent-up, childish energy, but due to the nature of my double-layered consciousnesses I was leagues ahead of my peers in matters of mental focus. That is, I was capable of sitting still and thinking for more than fifteen minutes at a stretch. When I could, I worked ahead in my Japanese book—memorizing kanji, practicing my handwriting, expanding my vocabulary—but in hindsight that was a foolish choice. I pulled so far ahead in my studies that I succeeded in making Japanese class boring, too.</p><p>Consequently, I spent a lot of time watching Akihiko and Yoshiya to fill the empty hours. Despite Yoshiya's insistence to the contrary—his choice appellations for Akihiko consisted mostly of variations on descriptors like "stupid" and "muscle-headed"—Akihiko was very intelligent. He didn't give two hoots about jutsu theory or chakra studies, but he loved dissecting historical battles and war tactics. He seemed to have a natural aptitude for strategy, and he probably would have slayed in shogi or go if he had ever bothered to learn. And as for Yoshiya, he bore no resemblance to the wimpish milksop that Akihiko proclaimed him to be. True, he was no good for winning taijutsu bouts—the instructors frequently criticized his weak strikes and sloppy form—but even if he never got the final blow, he could dance in circles around his opponents, sometimes even to point that they would defeat themselves. He was quick, clever, and skilled in misdirection; combined with an unexpectedly high amount of endurance, he often won matches through sheer attrition alone.</p><p>They built on one another, I concluded after the first couple weeks of studying their interactions. The prodded and goaded and fueled each other to try harder, to keep training, and to do better; their competition spurred their growth. They <em>were</em> rivals, and because they had had each other since the days of their birth, their development had had a huge jumpstart.</p><p>Had that been done intentionally? Their fathers had been been friends, so it wasn't unexpected for them to have their sons interact, but was there more to it? Their fathers were also shinobi. Had they been making a concerted effort to raise prodigy children?</p><p>I considered it. It was plausible. The culture of this place was one very much entrenched in the concept of "might makes right." Any parent would want to equip his child with shinobi prowess in a world like this one. But if that were the case… did that mean Akihiko and Yoshiya were bred to become killers from the moments they were born?</p><p>Their parents might not have even realized they were doing it. They'd probably just assumed—and rightly so—that their kids would be shinobi. It was what everyone expected, and it was why I was here too: every adult had encouraged me and my cousins to grow up and become fine ninjas. They were just trying to give their children the skills they needed to survive. Besides, who didn't want to be the parent of a genius child? Raising a fine shinobi was nearly as honorable as being a fine shinobi oneself.</p><p>I didn't follow that thread of logic to its conclusion—perhaps on a subconscious level I didn't want to—and that was maybe one of the things I regretted the most about my childhood.</p><p>It was not the last time I would let myself be taken in by the heroic fantasies.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>NOTES:<br/>(1) "kebane": the Japanese equivalent of the Chinese jianzi, which was historically used in military exercises. These days it's a game played amongst children in East Asia. It is somewhat similar to a hacky sack.</p><p>Published: 6/3/2016<br/>Edited: 8/13/2018</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Little Eternity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Dear Suzu,</em>
</p><p><em>I'm afraid we won't be able to meet up for a while, kiddo. I'm currently sending this to you from out of the country. Something's stirring down south, and I've been asked to look into it. If it's true, </em><em>we</em><em> need to keep a careful eye on it</em>—<em>we</em> <em>don't need any enemies setting up shop in our neighborhood. I'll be investigating thoroughly, so I expect to be away from the village for some while.</em></p><p><em>Sorry about this. While I'm gone, start thinking up names. I can tell you without even reviewing the manuscript that all of our names will have to change</em>—<em>mine, yours, Minato's, everyone's. Start editing what you can now so we'll be farther along when we finally do meet up.</em></p><p>
  <em>Until then.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your friend,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jiraiya</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>I did very well in the Academy. The schoolwork of a six-year-old child, even a ninja child, was laughably easy when armed with the memories of two decades' schooling; and as for my performance in PE, it was excellent. I was an active child with unfairly well-developed mental acuity, so I improved at an exceptional pace. It wasn't long before there was talk of skipping grades.</p><p>I didn't realize it back then, but with the perspective I have now I rather firmly believe that proposition had been my first encounter with death. Skipping grades, after all, meant an earlier graduation, and an earlier graduation meant an earlier deployment. Fortunately, Auntie Reiko and Uncle Souhei—possibly hoping that the intervening years might bring the war to an end—cited concerns about removing me from my age group and declined moving me ahead. They caught a lot of flak for it, but they held firm in their decision.</p><p>At the time I didn't give much thought to their choice, though I was glad I wouldn't be separated from the friends I had blessedly been able to make. Now, though, I sometimes find myself wondering what sort of grisly death I would have died if they hadn't held me back. I barely survived coming out of the Academy at age nine. Seven or eight would have seen me killed for sure. After all, great potential—which is what I suppose the instructors must have seen in me—did not automatically guarantee great skill. I was good, but even at that age Akihiko and Yoshiya had outshone me in their fields of expertise.</p><p>I learned a lot from them both. Yoshiya was an invaluable resource; he was one of the few people who were willing teach a six-year-old how to mold chakra. He was perfectly capable of using chakra himself, so despite the dire warnings issued about the potentially lethal consequences of trying to access it before we were ready, he had no issues with instructing someone he thought could handle it. He ignored the standard Academy explanation of physical and spiritual energy and instead offered me this advice:</p><p>"Chakra is something that can only be created with balance. People who aren't well-rounded are useless at using it. It takes both physical and spiritual health. Chakra with different ratios of energy can be made and can have useful properties, but unless you master both sides of it, you'll never be able to use it right."</p><p>He might have only been parroting someone else's words—and I suspected he was, because prodigious though he was, he was <em>six</em>—but he sounded very sage.</p><p>"I think you'll manage pretty well, since you get good grades all around," Yoshiya mused. He didn't know about my offer to skip grades, so I refrained from making an ironic comment. "You might even have larger reserves than me. You're better at taijutsu, so your physical energy doesn't cap you at the same point mine does." He grinned crookedly. "Bet you my control's better, though."</p><p>Cheeky. I didn't have anything to reply with, though, so he went on and explained how to meditate on the hara, the center of the body's chakra network, and how to manipulate the energy there. It was an odd feeling—like flexing a muscle that I hadn't known existed—but when I pushed the energies together warmth welled up within me. For a brief moment, it swirled in my stomach before it leaked away, draining in all directions. A buzzing sensation fizzled out just beneath my skin, and for a moment, I thought I could feel something in the air around me.</p><p>"So?" Yoshiya asked expectantly as I blinked through the odd sensation. As soon as it was there, though, it was gone; everything cleared away until the empty classroom felt just the same as it always had.</p><p>"...It went away," I said after a moment, dropping the tiger seal from my hands and looking down at my stomach.</p><p>"The chakra? It's probably because you didn't direct it," Yoshiya figured. He reached behind him and snagged a blank piece of paper off the desk. He ripped a piece off and handed it to me. "Here, use this. If you mold your chakra and send it up to your forehead, the paper will stick. It's the first exercise Dad ever taught me."</p><p>"Send it up to my forehead?" I repeated. That did sound familiar. "How do I do that?"</p><p>"You close the tenketsu you don't need," Yoshiya replied. "Most people can't intentionally put out chakra through tenketsu that aren't in the hands or feet, but they still bleed chakra if you leave them open. But if you close the right ones the chakra naturally flows where you want it to go."</p><p>"Close the tenketsu?" I considered this, and sat still for a moment. I tried molding chakra once more; warmth swelled up within me, easier and a little faster this time. I focused on it, and there was silence.</p><p>Yoshiya looked at me intently.</p><p>"...Um, how do I close the tenketsu?" I asked as the chakra spilled everywhere again, dissipating.</p><p>Yoshiya looked puzzled. "You close them," he said, as if wondering what else there was to say. I sent him a blank look; he responded in kind.</p><p>In that moment, I understood that some people were born with perfect chakra control in the same way that some people were born with perfect pitch. That was probably as far as I was going to get with Yoshiya today. I would just have to practice and find out the rest for myself.</p><p>Yoshiya wasn't the only one helping me improve, though. In fact, though Yoshiya was talented enough to already know all three of the Academy's signature ninjutsu, his skill level with chakra was so far above mine that we reached a fundamental disconnect whenever he tried teaching me beyond a certain point. Contrarily, I was <em>good </em>at physical activity, so Akihiko was able to share a lot of his wisdom about our clan's taijutsu style, Hurricane Gale, with me.</p><p>In polite speech, one might say the Namikaze clan was made mostly of slender, shortish people with small builds and low punching power. If not going out of the way to be nice, however, it sufficed to say that were made like toothpicks and we weighed next to nothing. Hurricane Gale, consequently, was a very non-confrontational style that relied on redirection and torque for its strikes. Emphasis on kicking attacks and leg-work was heavy; even our men had somewhat below-average upper body strength, so we drew power from the hips instead. We were also the type that flew—soared, really—when we got hit, so learning how to roll and fall was pretty much the only thing one did when learning in the first tier.</p><p>I was still in the first tier, and most of my offensive techniques were basic, Academy-standard attacks. Akihiko, however, was learning from the <em>fourth</em>—something that would have been unprecedented had he not been born after Minato—and he delighted in sharing his martial knowledge with me. I think he might have been trying to groom a better sparring partner for himself. Yoshiya, in the words of Akihiko, was good for agility training but useless for practicing almost anything else with. He held nothing back when I asked for tips.</p><p>With both of their help, I became a lot more comfortable in my own skin. My sense of space improved drastically in those first few months, and with Yoshiya's paper-improvised leaf-sticking exercise, I was also able to occupy myself during my lessons in a non-disruptive way. I grew a lot as a shinobi just by being around those two. They were unnaturally talented.</p><p>The Academy teachers noticed this—noticed in general that the three of us were developing very well—and they kept us lumped together as often as possible. It was a brand of favoritism that was, in hindsight, extremely damaging to the other students. The Academy instructors locked themselves into a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy because of it: they knew that a majority of us would die before our careers would really even start, and as a consequence, they tended to pool their energies on the select few they figured would probably make it. The other children's instruction suffered for it, and because they ended up leaving the Academy with educations that were only half-done, they died right away if they were put into battle. It was only later on during the post-war reforms that the practice of balancing teams—that is, practices like propping up the dead-lasts with the top-ranked graduates—was implemented.</p><p>As it was, the three of us received a lot of extra attention. In class spars and other group activities our instructor would only make a short pretense of monitoring the other students before he dedicated the rest of his time to hovering over us and providing as much feedback for improvement as possible. After school hours, Akihiko monopolized the teacher's time by requesting as many spars as he could give him, and Yoshiya was forever begging instruction in advanced jutsu off of whatever sensei he could find. As for me, I was allowed to sit with the older years for the after-school kuniochi course, which was specifically geared for teaching young girls the ninja techniques that boys weren't usually called upon to put into practice.</p><p>These lessons were easily my favorite part of the Academy. We learned acting techniques, accents, forgery, different styles of flirting, and even singing and dancing. Generally the classes were regarded as superfluous—if it hadn't been wartime, Infiltration and Espionage would have used them to scout out good future spies, but alas—because the fighting had long since progressed past the point of spying and was now firmly entrenched in gritty, open combat. The kunoichi course wasn't shut down, though, because above all that extra "junk," the teachers provided us with a lot of tips and practical advice about being females in a world of male shinobi. It ranged from basic things like how to handle unwanted advances from clients and comrades to things I had never even considered, like the making and application of a seal that concealed the scent of menstrual blood from trackers. They also warned us about the difficulties we would face due to our gender; first and foremost among them was the fact that we would, plainly, stand out.</p><p>"When you're young in particular, enemies will look to make you targets right away," Erina-sensei cautioned us. "They do it for a lot of reasons. Taijutsu specialists will make a point of focusing you down on the battlefield because they know they have the upper hand in physical strength. Because a lot of us girls tend to be gen-, nin-, and iryou-ninjutsu users, enemies will also generally try to take us out right away so they can eliminate our ability to recover the wounded while simultaneously shutting down as much of the potential area-of-effect damage as possible. In interrogation we often bear the brunt of the questioning because they try to take advantage of our naturally high empathy, and in a similar vein, they always target the kunoichi first when trying to extract intel through torture." Erina-sensei let out a short sigh. "They usually try softer approaches first if you're caught alone, but if you happen to be captured alongside your squad, there are generally two routes that those situations take.</p><p>"The first route goes like this: if they know that it's likely you have the information they want, they hurt your teammates and demand you give up what you know if you want to ease their suffering; this is one of the methods of exploiting empathy that I mentioned earlier. The second route, though, is the one where <em>you</em> are tortured. It's generally agreed amongst ninjas that females tend to have a lower pain tolerance than men, at least in matters of sudden acute pain. It has a lot to do with the cyclic nature of the concentration of hormones in our bodies, but that's an explanation for another time. What really matters is that enemies will try to take advantage of this. It takes less work to bring us to an extreme point of suffering, so it makes us more vulnerable."</p><p>"You tend to have higher-pitched voices, too," the lone male chuunin-sensei who had been sitting at his desk in the corner put in quietly, with eyes cast down at the papers before him. "You tend to have more piercing screams…" His pen went still. "...It has a bad effect on your comrades, if they hear it."</p><p>We turned to look at him, but he added nothing else and seemed to refocus on his work. Erina-sensei let out another sigh.</p><p>"And there's that, too," she said. "You might not be able to manage it if it comes down it, but if you think you can keep yourself stoic, you might be able to help your allies hold out. Do your best, if you find yourself in that situation someday."</p><p>The rest of the lesson lingered on unpleasant scenarios. We were instructed on the protocol for handling cases of rape and sexual abuse, and of the various counselling services available to us if we ever found ourselves in need of them. We were also warned that psych evaluations were frequent and standard, and that it was in our best interest to seek help when it was required. Those types of issues tended to get worse before they got better, Erina-sensei informed, so it would come out sooner or later—best to get it squared away before it became too hard to handle.</p><p>Speaking now again with an older and somewhat more experienced perspective, I can say that while this was true, to an extent, things were not necessarily as stringent as Erina-sensei had made them out to be. What the village administration tended to deem as an "acceptable" threshold of mental imbalance was uncomfortably high. Ninjas often acquired some very quirky habits as part of their coping mechanisms, I knew, and because of that some leeway was called for in evaluations, but the practice of deploying shinobi even if they displayed troubling tendencies was disturbingly common.</p><p>Though Akihiko—and occasionally Yoshiya—usually walked home with me, the class ran late that day, and both of them had already left by the time I was let out. I trudged back to the House on my own, quietly kicking pebbles as I went.</p>
<hr/><p>Surprisingly, Minato was home when I made it back to the House. He had been assigned an apprentice recently—an antisocial apprentice who had declined every one of Minato's invitations to dinner—and had, consequently, begun leaving earlier in the morning and staying out later at night to fit in all of his usual training. We children were usually forced into bed long before he made it back home, so it was a rare treat to see him these days.</p><p>He was sitting at the coffee table in the sitting room with fuuinjutsu supplies scattered all about him. That probably explained why he didn't have a crowd of six-year-olds crawling all over him; we usually knew better than to bother him while he was working on his seals. Still, I couldn't help but tip-toe quietly over and try to peek over his shoulder.</p><p>Minato leaned to the side accommodatingly, giving me a glimpse of some incredibly complex kanji, and I eeped before realizing that of course he knew I was here. Even if he had managed to not hear me, after all, he would still have been able to sense me. He wasn't just a jounin; he was a sensor, too.</p><p>"I thought it was you, Suzu," Minato said warmly when he turned his head and saw my face. "Your chakra seems to be becoming distinct lately."</p><p>That was probably because I'd been practicing the paper-sticking exercise a lot. Perhaps it was making my reserves grow. I nodded a little jerkily, shuffling my feet and twisting my fingers together.</p><p>"What, are you being shy today?" Minato teased and poked me in the stomach. I squeaked, found myself falling over onto the floor, and was subjected to a few seconds of affectionate tickling.</p><p>"Ah, it's good to be at home," he sighed happily after I'd managed to squirm my way out of his grasp. He let himself fall onto his back next to me. "My student—his name is Kakashi, by the way—is a handful, you know. He's only a little older than you, but I doubt he'd appreciate it if I tried tickling him."</p><p>I burst into giggles just at the thought of it. Imagine that, proud and haughty Kakashi Hatake in a tickle fight on the floor. Minato rolled onto his stomach and grinned at me.</p><p>Seeing an opportunity for revenge, I darted a hand out and aimed for his side. Starting, Minato jerked away and out of reach. His heel hit the table, making it—and everything on it—rattle.</p><p>"Oops," he laughed after he'd whipped back up into a sitting position and made sure he hadn't sent ink flying everywhere. He glanced back at me and scratched the back of his head. "You've gotten pretty quick, Suzu! You startled me."</p><p>"Sorry," I said, wide-eyed, as I scrambled to my feet to see if I had screwed up whatever it was he had been working on.</p><p>"It's fine," he assured me when I paled, seeing that his brush had rolled over the sheet, leaving a black smear. "I didn't have anything important out—I was only practicing."</p><p>"Practicing?" I looked at the paper. It wasn't a scroll; it was a large sheet of washi paper printed with a grid pattern, and each of the boxes had a kanji painted in it. All of them were crazily complex, with probably at least twenty strokes each, and I couldn't read a single one of them.</p><p>"Yup, practicing." Minato nodded as he cleared away the mess, picked up the brush, folded the ruined sheet, and got out a new one. "Nothing's more important in sealing than a steady hand."</p><p>I oohed appropriately as he deftly wrote out another block of lines. I still couldn't read it, but it had the fire radical. Explosion?</p><p>"Want to try?" he asked. I glanced at the mess of lines he had just drawn and gave him a doubtful look. He laughed; then he painted a simpler kanji. I still couldn't read it, though. It looked like water, but it had a dot and an extra hook on it.</p><p>"Eternity," Minato supplied. "That's the eternity in 'perpetuity,' if you know it. The kun-yomi is <em>nagai</em>, and the on-yomi is <em>ei</em>. It's a great practice character because it has all the basic brush movements in it."</p><p>Hesitantly, I took the brush when he offered it to me, and he let me sit on his lap so I could reach the table.</p><p>"The brush movements are what give the character its shape," Minato murmured as he put his hand over mine and drew the kanji out again. "Like that. Think you can do it?"</p><p>Holding a brush was nothing like holding a pen. It had to be held perpendicular to the paper, which resulted in a wrist bent at a decidedly uncomfortable angle. My hand trembled uncontrollably when I put tip to paper, so my dot came out looking like a blob, and the line I drew looked like a portion of a sideways EKG. When I finished, the kanji looked like less of a character and more of a disfigured monstrosity.</p><p>"Aww," Minato laughed as I began turning beet red. "Don't worry, Suzu, that's normal. It's hard, right? That's why you need practice. I shook like crazy when I first started out, too."</p><p>"Draw it again?" I requested before pursing my lips. Minato obliged, plucking the brush from my hand and painting out another pretty eternity. I observed him carefully, taking note of the places where he slowed down or rotated his wrist. I probably had him fill a whole row himself before I tried again.</p><p>"Oh, that's not bad," Minato complimented my second try. Next to his perfectly portioned writing, the round, bulky corners and too-fat lines of my character still seemed pretty awful, but it was at least more legible than my first attempt had been.</p><p>I ended up finishing off the rest of the practice sheet, though I had him write again every couple of tries to make sure I was getting the right idea. By the time I had reached the end, Minato looked a little impressed. He pulled out a thinner brush, dipped it in the ink, and circled a few of my last attempts.</p><p>"These ones have good motion," he told me with a little look of pleasure. "Aim for something like this when you try again. These are pretty good for a novice."</p><p>"Really?" I wondered as I glanced between one of his characters and mine.</p><p>"I'd say so." He smiled at me. "You may have some talent for this, Suzu!"</p><p>Talent, huh? When I made myself recall the things of Earth, I did often find memories practicing the arts. A lot of the focus had been in music, but a fair chunk of time had been drawing and painting, too. Perhaps those remembered moments were enough to give me a bit of an edge in calligraphy.</p><p>"Here, you should keep this." Minato picked up the paper and waved it a few times to dry it; then he handed it to me. After a moment, he took on a thoughtful look and nudged me off his lap. "I think I still have my old calligraphy set upstairs," he said as he stood. "I'll give it to you, so you should practice, okay?"</p><p>"Okay," I said, a little dumbly, as he went into the hall and up the stairs. I guess I was going to start practicing calligraphy, then.</p><p>I looked down at the sheet I was holding. Minato's handwriting was large and slanted, but it was lighter and airier than mine. Maybe I had used too much ink; my characters were heavy and dark, and perhaps a bit undersized, in comparison.</p><p>Still, I thought as I looked down at two of our kanji side-by-side, perhaps there was a hint of beauty here. Something about these two eternities, one big and one small—one steady and one wavering—made them look a little bit like brother and sister.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>(1) "That's the eternity in 'perpetuity,' if you know it": Japanese nouns are often composed of two or more kanji, and Minato is basically saying that the word "perpetuity" (永遠) has the character for "eternity" (永) in it.</p><p>(2) "The kun-yomi is nagai, and the on-yomi is ei": Japanese characters usually have a least two readings, kun (the Japanese reading) and on (the Chinese reading). In the case of 永, you could read it as either nagai (which is what you do if it's standing alone) or ei (which is how it's pronounced if it's in a compound. This is why 永遠 is read eien.)</p><p>永 is nice in that it only has one of each reading, which is not always the case.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Team 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Dear Jiraiya-sama,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thank you for your letter; I'll start thinking up some names right away. I'm giving this to Minato to pass along to you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You needn't share anything I ought not know, but write to me if you can. Tell me of your health at the least.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I will be waiting eagerly for your return, so please be careful while you are away. Don't pull any muscles, old coot!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Be safe,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Suzu</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>It took a little bit, but Kakashi gradually warmed up to Minato. He never got to the point of coming over for dinner, but Minato, when regaling me with stories of their missions, was always pleased to mention his progress. Not academically—though I was sure Kakashi was soaring with progress, because what else could happen when two geniuses got stuck in a teaching relationship together?—but rather socially. These days, I was led to believe, he was positively amiable. Even affectionate, at times.</p><p>That changed when I finished my second year at the Academy. I came home after a long but well-fought celebratory game of ninja—I had been on the losing side, since I had been on the team opposing Yoshiya and Akihiko's, but it had been a good battle all the same—and found Minato on the sitting room floor with his head buried in one hand. He looked, for lack of a better word, stressed. Since he was a man of nigh-unbreakable composure, it was a startlingly uncommon sight.</p><p>Kushina was sitting next to him. Though she was still dressed in her mission gear, her flak jacket was unzipped, and she looked right at home.</p><p>"Oh, Suzu-chan," she said upon seeing me enter. "Welcome home."</p><p>"Tadaima," I replied, used to having her welcome me like she lived here herself. She was a near constant guest at the House, after all. Then I shot a concerned look at Minato and raised my eyebrows in silent question.</p><p>"It's Kakashi," my cousin said before she could explain, dropping his hand and sighing. "He's angry with me."</p><p>I found this to be rather unexpected. Lately Minato had had nothing but good things to say about the goings-on between himself and his student.</p><p>"What happened?" I wondered, brow furrowing.</p><p>"The village assigned two of the new Academy graduates to our unit," Minato explained, finally straightening his slumped shoulders and sitting up. "So we could finally be a proper platoon instead of just a master-apprentice pair. He's not happy that I agreed to take on additional students."</p><p>"Oh," I said, connecting the dots easily enough. That meant Obito and Rin had arrived on Team 7. Kakashi probably wasn't appreciating the intrusion much; it had taken him the better part of a year to start getting along with Minato, after all, and in the Naruto series, he hadn't managed to mesh with his teammates right up until the day Obito sacrificed himself. Kakashi just wasn't the type to get along with people easily, it seemed.</p><p>I felt a sudden spike in anxiety. Right. That was going to happen, wasn't it? Obito was going to go to Kannabi Bridge, give up his eye, nearly die, and then...</p><p>"It's only temporary," Kushina soothed, rubbing Minato's shoulders consolingly. "He's just adjusting. Give it a little while and he'll be the same to you as he always was."</p><p>"We were finally just starting to work well together," Minato muttered to himself, rather failing to take in her wise words. "And now the team is all out of whack… the boys despise each other, there's so much animosity…"</p><p>It was rare for him to air out his problems like this, but I supposed it was just Kushina's privilege to be privy to his troubles. For the briefest moment, I felt a little jealous; then I realized how ridiculous it would be for me to try and compete with the woman he would marry and decided to stop. If anything, being clingy and resentful would only add to his stress.</p><p>Still, it would be nice if he ever relied on me like that. But who would confide in a little cousin? I know certainly wouldn't have relied on any of my cousins back on Earth. And in reality, I wasn't all that reliable anyway. I put the matter of Obito far from my mind.</p><p>Feeling heavy, like I'd suddenly picked up a few troubles of my own, I huffed out a sigh, waved goodbye at the commiserating couple, and went upstairs.</p>
<hr/><p>If Konoha's Team 7 struggled at the outset, Team 11, upon its formation a year later, flourished. As expected, Akihiko and Yoshiya and I were once again grouped together, just as the Academy had teachers had planned. They had groomed us to become a classic front-line squad, balanced with ninjutsu capability while still leaning toward superiority in physical combat—exactly the kind of team that was ideal for enduring drawn-out open-field battle—so there had been no way village administration could pass up making a squad out of us. Our teamwork ratings from group exercises, of course, were already exceptional.</p><p>As for our sensei, he was a cheerful, sensible young man who had given what people these days call an "oh-shit" promotion. He had been a fairly skilled chuunin, seasoned enough to be called reliable, and he had been one of the few unfortunate everymen to be shoved into the office of jounin when our stock of elites began dwindling dangerously low. By his own admission, he did not think he was particularly cut out for the title, as his only major strength was in bukijutsu and he had no patience for ninjutsu theory or chakra studies. Akihiko liked him immediately and decided he was a good target for idolization.</p><p>At barely twenty years old, Itsuki Mikawaya was the type of person who was, I suspected, often underestimated. He was not from any clan; like Yoshiya, he was only a second-generation ninja. Unlike Yoshiya, however, he did not have any talent for the flashy, stereotypically "shinobi" arts like ninjutsu. And compounding that, he looked—speaking frankly—just a little bit like a girl. His hair was actually longer than mine, and though he often ponytailed it, it didn't do much to diminish the fairness of his face. If he hadn't been born with a fairly deep voice it wouldn't have been at all difficult to mistake him for a woman.</p><p>But despite that—or maybe even because of that—he had a razor-sharp intellect. His deduction skills were fearsome; we learned this on the very first mission we took with him.</p><p>The mission, as far as genin's first missions go, was actually fairly significant: patrolling the merchant road that traders took into Konoha. Everyone had to check in with the gate guards, of course, but having shinobi wandering up and down the route was both a necessary show of power and a practical measure to reduce congestion at the wall. Having people present their papers before they got to the sentries made them put their documents into order, which would in turn expedite their entry into the village. Plus, if there were any suspicious characters were running about, we were better off detaining them as far away from the village proper as possible.</p><p>What was amazing about Itsuki-sensei's deduction skills was how quickly he was able to sort out those suspicious characters. Our team alone caught four people trying to enter Konoha illegally—three because they had skipped getting their visas properly checked and stamped, and one who suspiciously didn't have a visa at all—within the first hour and a half.</p><p>If he couldn't figure people out by their body language, our teacher only had to ask a few guided questions to completely solve their personalities and purpose; he was that good at reading people. The only thing that was perhaps more impressive was his ability to completely mold his own personality to fit theirs. His act ranged from forceful, intimidating killer to fabulously camp to reliable nice-guy and on; he could change faces like a revolving door. Yoshiya and I quickly came to admire him as much as Akihiko did.</p><p>"I grew up doing stuff like this," Itsuki-sensei cheerfully told us as we finished filling out our last detainment report. "My granddad owns a fruit store, so I spent a lot of time watching people when I was a kid."</p><p>"Where did you learn the other bit?" Yoshiya asked eagerly. "The whole personality-changing thing?"</p><p>Sensei blinked and looked at him quizzically before comprehension dawned on his face.</p><p>"Oh, that," he laughed. "I guess that's more of one of my quirks than anything, but I can probably blame it on the fruit store, too. I've haggled a lot with the suppliers over the years, and, well, I guess I just noticed that it was easier to crack them if I behaved a certain way. Before I knew it I was adjusting for everyone, not just the sellers." He laughed again.</p><p>I wasn't sure whether I found that impressive or not. Well, it was impressive, but it was also a little disconcerting. If he spent so much time acting, when was he being himself?</p><p>"I'm always being myself." He grinned at me when I asked. "'Myself' being a person who reacts according to the environment. Changing demeanors is just part of my nature at this point, I'd say."</p><p>This puzzled me, but I considered it for a moment. What was a person's personality if not the inclinations he held and the behaviors he naturally performed? Perhaps if Itsuki-sensei was most comfortable arranging himself according to the people he was interacting with, that could be called his "personality."</p><p>I was deep into this line of thought when a sudden weight crashed into my shoulders and sent me hurtling into Akihiko's back. I let out a yelp; Akihiko went down with my weight and caught me piggyback-style by reflex. Startled, he looked over his shoulder at Yoshiya with eyebrows raised. Yoshiya lowered his hands and shrugged his shoulders.</p><p>"She had her really serious 'I'm thinking important profound thoughts' face on," he said by way of explanation.</p><p>"Oh, I see." Akihiko immediately put an overly-somber face on and nodded knowingly.</p><p>"See what?" I demanded, knowing I was being mocked and hitting a fist against his shoulder in protest. "What's there to see, huh?"</p><p>"You know, you do tend to take yourself rather seriously, Suzu-chan," Itsuki-sensei put in thoughtfully. His lips twitched like he was fighting back a smile, and I scowled at him.</p><p>"Well, whatever," Akihiko interrupted before I could get started. "Hey, Yoshiya, I bet I can beat you in a race to the gates even with Suzu on my back."</p><p>My displeasure instantly refocused.</p><p>"What do you mean, 'even with'—" I began indignantly.</p><p>"You're on," Yoshiya immediately responded, sinking into a running position. Vehemence quickly dissipating, I found myself paling as Akihiko did the same, arms still wrapped firmly around my legs.</p><p>"Hey, wait a second!" I had seen these two in races before, and this was not particularly a position I wanted to be in. "I don't think this is a good idea!"</p><p>I tightened my arms around Akihiko's neck and shook him a bit, but he only let out a bark of laughter and smacked me in reply.</p><p>"Ready," Itsuki-sensei called out, holding an arm up and no longer trying to hide his grin. "And… go!"</p><p>"Wait—!"</p>
<hr/><p>It goes without saying we received high praise for our first mission, and our streak continued for several months after that. Our performance was pretty much impeccable. Never in all my shinobi career have I ever clicked with a crew as well as I did with Team 11. I never reached that level of synchronization and efficiency with anyone again, actually; not until I began running missions with my husband, anyway, and even then that was more of a partnership than a proper squad. No… as far as squads went, nothing to this day has managed to compare to the synergy we had on Team Itsuki.</p><p>We were brilliant. Perhaps nostalgia and my childhood naïveté has romanticized my rememberings, but I really think we were; we grew so fast, and we worked so well. Itsuki-sensei, astute as he was, was able to understand and correct our weaknesses with great efficiency. He had us train in our deficiencies, and the polarization in our squad blended until it became tight coherence. Yoshiya picked up the slack on his taijutsu; Akihiko figured out how to rein in his chakra; I polished my skills until I could hold my own against them… none of us became all-around masters overnight, of course, but we progressed enough that it almost seemed like there would be no end to our advancement. There had been a lot of hope for the future back then.</p><p>In the end, though, we didn't even last a year. Five months: that had been the lifespan of the platoon called Team 11, the twice-bright star that burned itself out in half a breath.</p><p>The war ended us, like it did a lot of other things. That was about the time that Minato was called away to the western front, to the campaign against Iwa that was stalling in the valleys on the border of Earth and Grass. It was a testament to the state of our offensive; even though splitting something as rare as a full platoon was a seriously undesirable action, the village made him go anyway. If he had to leave his team behind for a full half-year rotation because of it, well, they must have figured it was better than the alternative.</p><p>Minato's departure for the front lines also marked the point where things began to really fall apart. Konoha began spiraling uncontrollably into disaster: our lines crumbled like dry clay in a string of horrific losses, teams were split left and right as the casualty count climbed higher and higher, and Iwa pushed us all the way across Kusa no Kuni and right up onto Fire Country's threshold. They had had us on the ropes long before we finally managed to cobble together a desperate alliance with Suna, and our numbers—numbers that had still been recovering from the devastation of the Second War when this third one had started—shrank to about a fifth of what they had once been. Morale hit rock-bottom faster than a bag of bricks in a wading pool.</p><p>It was really no wonder. It was the worst part of the worst conflict in the history of our Hidden Village. Konoha's military strength reached an unprecedented low.</p><p>Just about everyone lost someone in those days. We were no exception.</p>
<hr/><p>We were assigned the mission on the same morning that Akihiko, after properly screwing up for the first time since we'd graduated, fractured his tibia. It had happened while he had been chasing after a cat named Toramaru; the plank Akihiko had landed on while roof-hopping had been positioned badly, and he had gone feet-first into the ground when it had fallen through. He was lucky not to have broken both of his legs, really. I suppose that was what one got for underestimating the strength of the demon cat.</p><p>Despite being down a member, though, we received a summons and were told to deliver a vital message to the Leaf-nin at Tatsumi River, who had failed to contact the village even once this whole week. Never before had I seen Itsuki-sensei protest a mission so harshly. He was furious that we had even been considered for such a task. Unconscionable, he said, to send a genin team—a genin team not even at full capacity, led by a ninja who was only a jounin in name—to the front lines like this. None of us were even remotely qualified for an assignment of that gravity.</p><p>Tough luck, had been his answer. Team 11 is the only viable option for this assignment, they had said. Your team has a flawless record, and your students are highly skilled; if you do not take this mission, it will only be shoved upon another team, one weaker and even more ill-suited to the task.</p><p>He took it in the end, though only after almost a full twenty minutes of arguing. The mission dispatcher eventually had to resort to the threat of a court-martial, citing three different counts of insubordination. With charges tantamount to treason, our teacher suddenly found himself standing on a road that could end only in incarceration—or execution. Possibly both.</p><p>Unsurprisingly, he acquiesced. He received the message in private, and I never learned its contents; to this day, I have no idea what words our team perished for. Then we were charged to leave ASAP. Sensei bore the hawkish glares of the entire Missions Office as we left.</p><p>"What do you mean they barred me?" Akihiko demanded once we'd gotten to him, smacking his hands on the table he was seated upon. The way he jostled his leg must have hurt like hell; the iryou-nin tending to him let out twin cries of horrified protest at his movement.</p><p>Akihiko seemed too angry to care, though. "My injury has barely even been processed!" he said furiously. "The healers are halfway done with it; it's going to be <em>fixed</em> in a couple of hours!"</p><p>"They weren't willing to wait for a couple of hours," Itsuki-sensei replied, expression tight and tone straining for neutrality. "I don't doubt they would have cleared you and let you run on that leg if they could've, Akihiko-kun—" a slight curl of disdain formed on his lip then— "but I guess it's just not meant to be."</p><p>Akihiko threw his arms into the air and nearly kicked one of the medics in the face. At that point we were curtly asked to leave, as we were agitating a patient and disrupting his treatment. Sensei gave off the impression of a taut rubber band just a twitch away from snapping as we exited.</p><p>But there was nothing we could do. He sighed in defeat as we reached the road outside; then he gave us an hour's time to assemble our gear and report to the main gate. I went back to the House to put together a travel pack.</p><p>"You're going out of the village?" Auntie asked curiously when she saw me drag a box out of the hall closet and begin stuffing sealing scrolls full of camping equipment. These weren't my own scrolls, of course; they were Minato-produced ones. We had a stock of them, since he had gone out of his way to make a box-full. He had insisted it had been for practice, but I rather suspected he did it to save us the money that would been used to purchase them from a store. Common as they were, scrolls like these weren't cheap.</p><p>"Yeah… it's an emergency mission, apparently." I furrowed my brow as I stuffed a waterproof cloak and an extra set of clothes into my bag. Even with sealing scrolls, was I going to have enough space…?</p><p>"The team leader usually carries the that, if one is necessary," Uncle Souhei informed me, plucking what was apparently a redundant item from my hand. "It must be urgent, if your teacher didn't even have time to tell you that. He didn't go over out-of-village travel protocols at all?"</p><p>"He just told us to bring our overnight bags," I replied. "The mission people told us to go right away, too. We kind of got the stink-eye for dawdling."</p><p>Auntie's forehead began to crease. "Where are they sending you?"</p><p>I told her. Both she and Uncle let noises of disbelief.</p><p>"Tatsumi River? That's where they sent Minato!" Auntie exclaimed, horrified. "They want you to go to the front lines?"</p><p>"They're sending you? Genin?" Uncle pushed his bangs back, eyes wide and incredulous. "There wasn't anyone else who could do it?"</p><p>"Is it really such a terrible mission?" I fretted, beginning to really worry now. Itsuki-sensei's reaction had been troubling enough, but this was taking my anxiety to a whole new level. Auntie tended to fuss, but Uncle was a good measure for the seriousness of a situation. He never reacted loudly if it wasn't called for.</p><p>My foster parents both straightened up and seemed to grab ahold of themselves.</p><p>"Not necessarily." Uncle cleared his throat and tried to play it cool. He seemed to know well enough that there was no point in backpedalling, though; his grimace was very telling. "But it's not exactly… what most people would consider appropriate for rookies fresh out of the Academy. Generally these missions go to the more experienced, since it's a fairly dangerous duty."</p><p>Auntie was starting to look rather off-color. Uncle turned, concerned, and touched her arm.</p><p>"Please be careful, sweetheart," she finally managed to get out after a moment, putting her hand on his and squeezing it hard. "Be very careful. Listen to everything your sensei says, and stay with your team at all times, okay? Don't go off anywhere alone, even to the bathroom."</p><p>"Yes, Auntie." I was going to have no issue with that. I had already heard plenty of horror stories about kunoichi going out on their own, unwilling to take along comrades because they were all men. None of them had had particularly happy endings.</p><p>Uncle helped me put together the rest of my pack, which turned out to be fortuitous help; by the time we had finished I only had fifteen minutes left to report to the gate. My aunt bestowed upon me a hug and an anxious kiss, and my uncle echoed her instruction to be careful.</p><p>Itsuki-sensei was already there when I arrived. He waved me over and showed me how to check out with the guards, and we received a scroll recording the size of our party, our business outside of the village—in this case, a mission—and the day of our departure. We needed to present it alongside our identification if we wanted to be permitted re-entry upon our return.</p><p>Yoshiya arrived last, since he had had no assistance with his packing. Sensei did a quick check on our bags, just to see if we had made any egregious mistakes, and then we were off.</p><p>We did not go particularly quickly. Though sprinting might have been more in line with the pressing nature of our task, Tatsumi River was a great distance away, and we had to keep our limits in mind. That probably would have excused a somewhat steadier pace, I grant, but even with that caveat I could still tell we were far too slow for this task. Itsuki-sensei might have been able to keep a swifter stride, had he been on his own, but little genin Yoshiya and me would have had no hope of keeping up with him whatsoever.</p><p>"Why did they send us on this mission?" Yoshiya finally voiced what we had both been thinking, once we'd stopped to refuel and rewater a few hours later. He grimaced, rubbing a stitch in his side. "I mean, I'm not saying that I think we should speed it up, but that's also exactly what I'm saying. We're not going nearly fast enough. We can't."</p><p>Itsuki-sensei, who had been all temper and nerves back at the village, seemed to have calmed down during the run. "There wasn't any other option, it seems," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I doubt we were their first choice, either. But with most of our forces out fighting, there's a only limited number of viable shinobi left at home. They probably just decided to make do with what was left and give it what they could; it's better than not trying at all."</p><p>The situation really was that dire, then. Had things gone this badly for Konoha in the series, too? We weren't losing yet, but we certainly seemed to be on the fast track to defeat.</p><p>There was nothing much to say after that. Quietly, we stashed our canteens away again and took off into the trees. I was forced to redirect the energy I spent brooding before long, though; it was a brutal run. I had always thought of myself as fairly fit and athletic, but by the end of the day I was sure I had been mistaken. What had I been doing before today? Training? It certainly didn't feel like it.</p><p>It was a bad state of affairs. Yoshiya, who was supposed to have first watch, was unconscious the moment we set down camp. I couldn't throw stones, either; I was drooling on his shoulder about ten minutes into mine, and Sensei, who had originally only been supposed to take on the dawn watch, was forced to forgo sleep altogether. The fact that we had to be up and running before dawn did not help anyone's mood, either.</p><p>We ran for the whole rest of the next day, too, and it was in that condition, half-dead with fatigue, that we made it to the border of Grass Country. It was, all in all, a disaster. Prospects hadn't been ideal even when we had been fresh, and our chances pretty much hit zero by the time we arrived. Itsuki-sensei was tired and distracted; Yoshiya and I had no idea what to watch out for; we knew nothing of the land whatsoever. It was no wonder at all that we walked straight into the ambush.</p><p>It was the height of midsummer; the scorching heat made the days that followed feel perfectly like hell.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Battle of Tatsumi River</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning: depictions of physical and psychological torture.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I woke up drowning on dry land. The humidity was unbearably bad, and the stench of sweat was even worse. I tried to take a deep breath and immediately regretted it; it took a lot of willpower to refrain from gagging uncontrollably.</p><p>Sitting up took a lot of willpower, too. My arms were bound, so it took a bit of awkward shuffling before managed to get myself upright. Then I looked up, felt my heart stop, and scrambled backwards until I hit a wall.</p><p>The room was <em>filled</em> with Iwa-nin. They were unmistakable in their one-sleeved red-and-brown uniforms. I nearly passed out again at the thought of fighting them all, but after a moment's observation, I managed to realize that none of these men looked at all like they were about to jump on us. Most of them, in fact, were sitting cross-legged, talking or maintaining their weapons. A few of them were even asleep, curled up around their packs or shoved against their comrades' sides. They looked hot and tired and just as disgusted by the haze of body odor as I was. A few of them were watching us—some surreptitiously, some without reserve—but on the whole we were largely being ignored.</p><p>A shoulder bumped into mine. I looked and saw Yoshiya, who was sitting between me and our sensei; they, too, had their wrists tied together. Itsuki-sensei was already sporting a split lip and the beginnings of an ugly black eye.</p><p>"What's going on?" I whispered, feeling lost and not insignificantly frightened. I'd never even seen a Rock shinobi in real life before, let alone been bound in a room full of them.</p><p>"We've been captured," Sensei muttered back. "It's a bunker of some sort. I don't know. They don't want to be above ground right now, for some reason."</p><p>"Well, I doubt they're down here by choice." Yoshiya wrinkled his nose aristocratically. "Twenty unbathed men stuffed in a small, poorly ventilated room in the middle of summer? I think I'm about to be sick."</p><p>"Your problems are much bigger than the <em>smell</em>, Yoshiya-kun," Itsuki-sensei shot back with uncharacteristic sharpness. Sweat dripped off his nose and fell into his lap. There was a lull in the chatter around us.</p><p>Yoshiya went quiet, and despite the intolerable heat, we found ourselves scooting closer together. Suddenly I wished Akihiko was here. He'd know how to break this tension.</p><p>What felt like hours passed like that. Yoshiya and I sat there and fidgeted, biting our lips and exchanging glances. Sensei stared grimly out at the shinobi before us, and the Iwa-nin kept ignoring us. Then, finally, a corner of the ceiling opened up and another ninja dropped in. He walked straight towards us, and Yoshiya and I squished ourselves together once more.</p><p>"You're all awake now," the ninja grunted, flicking his gaze at us before looking back to Itsuki-sensei. "I suppose we'll have to get on with this, then. My name's Tokiya, Leaf shinobi. Are you willing to share yours?"</p><p>Itsuki-sensei looked away, lips pressed together in a hard line.</p><p>"Don't be like that," Tokiya sighed, raking a hand across his brown hair. It stood up in small spikes, wet with perspiration. "This will be more pleasant for all of us if you cooperate. You know what's going to happen if you refuse to talk to us."</p><p>Sensei said nothing, eyes still turned to the side. Tokiya squatted down in front of him and spent a few moments more on cajolery, but everyone here knew it was a futile attempt. Eventually, he stood up again and let out another sigh.</p><p>"You're not even going to try, are you?" He ran a hand over his face. "You're not going to banter, or argue, or even attempt to mislead me. You're just not going to talk at all."</p><p>Tellingly, our teacher was silent. Tokiya shook his head and motioned another person forward. He was a bulkier man, broad of shoulder and several inches taller than his comrade. His face was one of flinty indifference.</p><p>"Hatsuta," Tokiya introduced, and then pain exploded on my scalp. I gasped and found myself being lifted into the air by my hair, ponytail coming undone. My bound hands jerked upwards.</p><p>"None of that," Tokiya murmured, gently forcing my arms down before I could attempt to jab Hatsuta in the eye. I gritted my teeth as tears began pooling in my eyes.</p><p>"Suzu!" Yoshiya sprang up, and Itsuki-sensei whipped his head back around. My teammate glowered.</p><p>"Put her down," he demanded with ferocity I didn't know he was capable of.</p><p>"We can't do that," Tokiya replied, sounding downright apologetic. "Only your squad leader can make that happen."</p><p>In an instant, everyone was looking at Itsuki-sensei. I couldn't move my head, but he was easy enough to see regardless.</p><p>The whole bunker was silent now.</p><p>"Put her down," our teacher finally said, looking up and meeting eyes with Tokiya.</p><p>"Tell us where your allies are encamped," was the soft reply. "I swear no harm will come to her if you do."</p><p>"I don't know where they are. Put her down."</p><p>"Then give us the message you were sent here with. Anything you can give will help."</p><p>"I can't. Put her down."</p><p>Tokiya took a deep breath. "Perhaps I'm moving too quickly," he said. "Let's get to know each other better first. Why don't we start at the beginning? Give us your name, stranger."</p><p>"Sensei…" I whispered then, trying not to tremble, as Erina-sensei's face suddenly appeared in my mind. Itsuki-sensei lowered his gaze.</p><p>"Put her down," he repeated, quieter than before.</p><p>Tokiya's friendly expression flattened. I held my breath as he sighed, crossed his arms, uncrossed them, pinched the bridge of his nose, and then sighed again.</p><p>"Hatsuta," he finally muttered.</p><p>"Ugh!" I grunted as I was dumped unceremoniously back onto the ground. I knew right away there was going to be some nasty skinning on my knees, but I had the feeling that that was going to be the least of my worries.</p><p>I was right, of course. Suddenly, Hatsuta's right foot lashed out, and the whole room resounded with the sound of my rib cracking.</p><p>"Suzu!" Yoshiya cried as I immediately began choking on my spit. My vision lit up like a New Year's fireworks special; I spent a valiant moment fighting to stay upright, but failed and fell over, collapsing in a heap. It was nearly as excruciating as a second kick.</p><p>"Torturing little girls is not a pastime of mine," Tokiya said over the sound of my gasping. "I don't want to do this. But it doesn't have to be this way. We're starting off slow, so just give us your name, Sensei, and I can stop. I'm sure my men don't want to listen to this, either; spare us all the pain."</p><p>Just don't scream, I told myself as Itsuki-sensei remained mute. I inhaled deeply, bearing both the repulsive stench and the incredible stabbing pain in my side. Just don't scream. Just don't scream, and it will be fine.</p><p>Another sigh. "Hatsuta," Tokiya said again.</p><p>
  <em>Do your best—</em>
</p><p>My best, we discovered in short order, was not terribly much.</p>
<hr/><p>Things got progressively worse over the next few days. At first it was just kicking. Then they started up on beatings. After that, it was stepping on my stomach—pure agony. By the time they started with strangling I was pretty sure I was just going to break in half any day now. Sure, they were ninjas, and they probably knew just how much would be enough before it would actually kill me, but I was positive they had broken more ribs the other day and if I wasn't going to die of internal bleeding, traumatic pneumothorax was sure to have already occurred. It definitely felt like I was breathing with only half a lung, anyway, and it was so damn hot that it was impossible to tell whether I was running a fever or not. We probably wouldn't find out about any infections until it was too late. Maybe I was already on my way out; I certainly felt like I was dying.</p><p>And wouldn't that be a relief, if only it didn't mean that the exact same thing would happen to Yoshiya next. I knew I was disposable. <em>I</em> didn't have any information, after all, and as long as they had a person to use as leverage against Sensei, I could expire right now and they wouldn't be bothered.</p><p>With that thought hanging over my head, I spent most of my free time—that is, all of the time I spent free from the tender mercies of Hatsuta—propped up against the wall, throbbing and aching and unable to move without being sent into spasms of unbearable pain. I didn't catch sight of Itsuki-sensei often; according to Yoshiya, though, he was hunkered down in the corner of the bunker. He had stopped speaking even to us by the time the third day had rolled around, so I had no idea of how he was faring. Hopefully better than me; if he quit here, after all, that was the end of all of us. But he was probably all right. Aside from the black eye and the split lip, which he must have gotten while fighting in the initial ambush, they hadn't touched a hair on his head.</p><p>We fell into a sluggish rhythm. Some time in the morning, Tokiya would come back with Hatsuta and ask for Itsuki-sensei's name once more; Itsuki-sensei would ignore them; I would get thrashed. Then they would leave and come back in the evening to repeat the process. Yoshiya, whose existence was mostly being ignored by Tokiya, seemed like he was doing the best out of all of us.</p><p>Yoshiya talked to me a lot while they were gone, as if he were trying to make up for Sensei's silence. I learned a lot about nature transformation and shape manipulation when I was lucid because of it; he was explaining his way through the whole set of Yamano Yuuhei's <em>Treatises on Chakra and its Forms</em>. It was strangely cathartic despite his choice of subject matter; it was almost like I was back at the Academy, daydreaming my way through lectures again. I smiled at him when I felt up to it, and even found myself indulging in a laugh or two despite the searing pain it caused.</p><p>We were in the company of Tokiya and his men for five days. Our stay with him came to an end when they were eliminated in the campaign that would eventually come to be called the Battle of Tatsumi River. Or, as most people remembered it, the Yellow Flash's debut. We didn't see any of it, of course.</p><p>Our comrades' arrival was heralded by a sudden break in the well-established routine. Some time during the very still and soundless night—at least, I thought it was night—all of the Iwa-nin suddenly got up. Someone whispered something, and then they were all pulling on their gear and reloading kunai and shuriken into their belt pouches. In short order they shuffled over to the far corner of the room, where they jumped up through the little hole and out to the ground above. We were left in the bunker alone.</p><p>Soon after this swift and silent mass exodus, though, Tokiya and Hatsuta appeared again. They moved quickly and urgently. They also skipped greetings and went straight to grabbing me and throwing me down in front of my teacher.</p><p>"We don't have a lot of time left, Sensei," Tokiya said softly. "I'm giving you an ultimatum. Just tell us what you know—anything, whatever it might be—and we will let you go. Otherwise, Suzu-san dies."</p><p>I heard the sound of a sword being unsheathed. For a moment, I stared at Itsuki-sensei. He had his arm around one leg and his face buried in his shoulder; he didn't attempt to look up at Tokiya, or down at me.</p><p>I squeezed my eyes shut and waited.</p><p>"Sensei, you have to say something now," Tokiya urged. "She's going to <em>die</em>."</p><p>There was silence, just as there ever had been. And then there was a step forward. Hatsuta's step, which I had known better and dreaded more than anything else in all these past days. I couldn't help myself; I let out a whimper.</p><p>It was pitiful. I'd never heard myself make such a pathetic-sounding noise in my life.</p><p>But then there was something else. "No," said Yoshiya's voice. There was shuffling, scrambling, and then a footfall next to my head. Yoshiya's footfall.</p><p>"Move, Yoshiya-kun," Tokiya ordered, coldly and quietly.</p><p>"No," Yoshiya repeated. "No. Just stop. Don't touch her again. I'm sick of watching this; if someone has to die, then just kill me."</p><p>There was a pause. Then Tokiya said, "I don't think you know what you're asking for."</p><p>"Maybe I don't," Yoshiya bit back with heedless abandon. "But I don't care. It's an honor to die for your comrades and your village." His voice took on that cold, haughty lilt that it had had when I had first met him; it was the lilt of his bravado. "Go ahead and make me a hero. Give them a reason to celebrate my name."</p><p>"Yoshiya," I managed to force out between shaking breaths. Oh, God.</p><p>There was a deep sigh. "As you wish, then, little Leaf shinobi," Tokiya said, sounding resigned. "We'll make you into a martyr. Your blood was bound to spill before long, anyway."</p><p>And they did it. There was a rushing of air, a grunt—a short gasp—</p><p>Something wet splattered over my back. And then, a beat later, Yoshiya fell against me. I felt his head hit my shoulder.</p><p>"Yoshiya," I began to sob in earnest, and at once my sides were on fire again. Every heave of my chest felt like a sledgehammer. But even though I tried, I couldn't stop. I <em>couldn't</em> stop, even though I desperately wanted to. After all, there was nothing more painful for a person with broken ribs than uncontrollable bawling. In fact, it hurt so much that I thought that maybe, just perhaps, I would finally stop breathing now. Just now—just stop.</p><p>But I didn't. I breathed, I cried, and I kept on living, even when it felt like I could have—would have, should have—died.</p><p>"You've only got one chance left, Sensei," Tokiya's voice spoke again, as measured as always. "We're going to leave you alone for a bit, so you can think in private. We'll come back in a little while; you can give us your answer then."</p><p>They left. Despite their promise, though, they never returned. After that, there was nothing; no more chatter, no more Iwa ninjas sharpening their blades or shining their kunai, no more quiet patter of footsteps. It was just me, Itsuki-sensei, and Yoshiya's blood soaking into my shirt.</p>
<hr/><p>I have no memory of being found. I don't remember anything, really, up until the point I woke up in a tent back at our camp. Minato told me later how it happened, though:</p><p>He had split a part of the main force off to search for any remaining enemies. While sweeping the area, the Hyuuga leading the team spotted the underground bunker with her Byakugan. When they investigated, they found us; after my cousin had been summoned and their medic-nin had administered first aid, they brought us back.</p><p>And that was all. That was how our stay in hell came to an end.</p><p>Despite the brutality that had occurred, I no longer have any scars to show for it. My bruises faded, my broken bones healed, and the cuts that I had received under the care of Hatsuta have all gone away. By the time a month or so had passed, there was not a single mark on my body left to show for the whole ordeal.</p><p>I don't think the same could be said for my heart, though.</p>
<hr/><p>Though by the time I returned to the village most of my bruises were gone, they were still there in the immediate aftermath of my captivity. My ribs had been the chief concern of the medics, so they fixed those right away, but the rest they left for time to heal naturally. They could have dealt with my other injuries easily enough, I think, but there were only two properly trained iryou-nin left alive in the company deployed at Tatsumi River, and there was only so much chakra to go around. Consequently, the act of breathing no longer sent me into unbearable agony, but I was still very much sore and in pain all over.</p><p>The worst of these ills was my throat. There was, I knew, a very dark ring of abused flesh still encircling my neck. I had to hand it to the Iwa ninjas; there was little else more torturous than choking a person with a half-destroyed ribcage. Who among them had come up with that technique? Whoever he was, he had the art of sadism perfected.</p><p>It made an excellent excuse for not talking to people, though. It saved me from answering several uncomfortable questions when I first woke up, and if I ever rolled over in my futon and buried my face in my pillow mid-conversation, whoever was talking to me would assume I was tired of straining my very raspy voice and would generally leave me alone. I was able to sleep several days away unmolested because of it.</p><p>I didn't really want to do anything else besides sleep. Everything was a trial; I went into total safe mode, performing only the essential acts of eating, drinking, and breathing. Anything else was just too much. Too much effort, or too much pain.</p><p>Minato visited me several times. He even sat by my bed and kept me company when he could be spared for it. That wasn't often, though; the previous commander of the troops here had died almost two weeks ago, and since then he had been made into the de facto leader of the company. He hardly had time to do anything but run the camp.</p><p>I made a bit more of an effort to interact with him, if only because his time was so precious, but I still felt better being alone. Well, maybe not better, but I preferred it to being gawped at or given sorry looks. I knew being tortured was plenty of cause for concern, but there was no need for so much attention. Unlike other people, I wasn't—wasn't dead. Or… insane.</p><p>That was what they were saying about Itsuki-sensei. News traveled fast, even to the bedridden. People were saying that the captured jounin had snapped and gone crazy—that the Iwa ninjas had broken him. I knew most of what was reaching my ears was the usual nonsense, if only by the sheer number of contradicting stories—he's catatonic, no, he won't stop shouting, no, he's hallucinating and he keeps calling for his students under his breath—but there was a seed of truth in every tall tale.</p><p>He refused to see me. It was the one thing I would have gotten out of bed for, but he refused to see me at all. Adamantly.</p><p>I think I spent about a week in that state. Sleeping until noon, eating what was left out for me, lying around, not talking, not doing anything… I refused to believe it at first, of course, but it was damning evidence of how eminently <em>not-fine</em> I was. It was ridiculous of me to think that I could be anything but not-fine after that. Still, it wasn't out of line with my personality; I'd always been the type of person to deny the problems that were right in my face. Even back on Earth I had been the kind of girl who had stuffed and stuffed and stuffed her stuff, right up until the moment it all broke loose.</p><p>It was a drenching rain that broke my stupor. Poetic on one level, I supposed—a deluge of water breaking through the dam of blocked emotion, or something like that—but strangely out of line with what the literary standard of what weather after a major death ought to be. After someone important dies, one part of me must have been thinking, there should be nonstop rain symbolizing grief and mourning, right? It was only after things became hopeful again that the sun was supposed to burst out from behind the clouds.</p><p>Really, though, it was just the opposite. The sun had been beating down on us as it had been all summer, cracking the soil and scorching anyone unfortunate enough to come under its gaze. Rain was the exact relief needed for this infernal drought. The thought of water falling from the sky was so compelling, in fact, that the sound of it forced me outside of my own accord for the first time since I'd been rescued.</p><p>I was soaked through in mere moments. It was a pounding, pounding rain; I felt like I was being bombarded by thousands of tiny weights, like a flood of heavy glass marbles were being dumped on me over and over. It made me ache, as covered in bruises as I was, but something about it was also… odd. It was a sensation I wanted to hold onto, despite the hurt.</p><p>Minato was very alarmed to see me standing outside, doing nothing, under the force of a torrential downpour. He called my name, but I beyond looking up at him, I didn't do much else.</p><p>"Suzu?" he said again once he had left the shelter of his tarp and run up to me. He made an aborted move to touch my shoulder, stretching an arm out and then halting his hand. No one besides the medics had really had the gumption to touch me since I'd first arrived here, since pretty much anything made me flinch and quiver.</p><p>It was a reaction beyond my control; that wasn't unusual for people who had suffered some sort of great trauma. I knew that he wouldn't hurt me, of course, but my body couldn't seem to get that through its head. It was tiresome, and embarrassing; I wanted to return to normal at once.</p><p>I took a step forward and let his palm hit my shoulder. Minato let out a noise of surprise, but since I'd been the one to move, he didn't draw back even after my hands started trembling again. I fisted them in the hem of my shirt and said the first thing that came to mind.</p><p>"Sorry," I mumbled.</p><p>Minato's expression melted. Not into pity, which I had quietly been dreading to see on his face, but of something else. Something very warm and brotherly.</p><p>He put his hands under my arms and lifted me up, settling me on his hip just like he had when I'd first come into this universe. It was more awkward than it had been back then, because I was much bigger now, but he paid it no mind at all.</p><p>"Don't be sorry," he murmured, letting me latch onto his neck and shake like a leaf. "None of it was your fault."</p><p>I took several deep breaths. "Right," I said.</p><p>"No one is to blame for anything but the ones who are dead now."</p><p>"Right," I said again.</p><p>"He didn't die because of you. Your sensei didn't get hurt because of you, either."</p><p>"Right," I said, one more time, and my eyes began to itch.</p><p>Minato began walking back toward the tent. He smoothed my wet hair back and didn't speak again.</p><p>My old clothes had been thrown out, as no amount of washing or redyeing would have erased the bloodstains. Since my only spare outfit was currently soaked though, Minato gave me one of his extra shirts to wear after I was dried off. It was long enough on me to be a dress, and its turtleneck collar was loose enough for me to stick my chin in without pulling it out, but the elastics on the sleeves at least kept my arms from being swallowed by the garment.</p><p>"I have to go back to work," Minato said, changing his own soaked shirt, as I sat down on my futon again. "Will you be alright?"</p><p>"Yeah," I said, and then I gave him an embarrassed look. "Sorry. Um, for taking up your time. And your shirt."</p><p>Minato laughed and shook the water from his hair. "Don't be sorry," he echoed himself, smiling. He came over and crouched in front of me, and I found something metal being pressed into my hand. "Call me if you need me. I'll be there in a flash."</p><p>He vanished back outside. I looked down at the object in my hand and made noise of recognition. It was a kunai, slightly heavier than I was used to, with a three-pronged head. I unwrapped fingers from the handle and found it painted with all the manner of marks. It didn't look like the neat four-character Hiraishin seal that I had seen him use in the series, and I suspected after a moment of thought that he hadn't yet refined it to the one that I was familiar with.</p><p>Some children slept with blankets or stuffed animals to feel better in the darkness, but that night, I went to bed clutching my big brother's knife instead. It worked just as well as a teddy bear would have—better, even.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A War Hero</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was missing Akihiko sorely by the time I reached my sixth week at the camp. Despite all of the people around me, life at Tatsumi River was an isolated one, and I did not appreciate this as much as I had initially. The other shinobi would hold polite conversation with me if I initiated it, of course, but I had not been terribly friendly with them when I'd first arrived at the camp. Added to that, I was a child. I was "taichou's little sister," to be precise. The potential for socialization was not impressive.</p><p>My next recourse would have been my brother, but Minato-nii was being overworked to the point that even his own upkeep was suffering. His sleep schedule was fairly nonexistent, and if he took his meals at all he had to take them on his feet. He would probably just collapse outright if I tried bothering him. And as for Itsuki-sensei, he was still hiding away. He wouldn't even come out to eat with us in the mess tent, and he still had no wish to see me, so I wasn't entertaining any delusions. There was no need to expect any company from him.</p><p>I was angry at first, but the feeling didn't last. The dam had cracked and the water had boiled, so to speak; it was only natural that evaporation followed. Even the burning resentment—to put me through all of that and refuse to even look at me, could that man call himself my sensei?—eventually hollowed out. He hadn't had a choice, and besides, when the two medics advised me not to push him past his comfort, the fear of cracking the fragile balance he'd managed to cobble together was so obvious in their counsel that it drained me of all my ire.</p><p>With nothing else to do, I trained. I was a ninja child, so I found some measure of consolation in the familiar routine of stretches and katas and meditations, but truthfully, it didn't amount to much. I was able to pass the time, but the days were no less lonesome. In fact, they were perhaps a little worse; when I did taijutsu, I would find myself remembering all of the mornings I spent practicing Hurricane Gale forms with Akihiko, and when I sat down to do chakra exercises, Yoshiya's voice would resound endlessly in my head, reciting Yamano-sensei's treatises.</p><p>An insatiable longing began to fill the hollow space.</p><p>But eventually, after six weeks of solo katas and restless meditations, the order to return home came. Never had there been more welcome news. It would be lifetimes too soon if I ever returned to this wretched place. The other shinobi were glad for it, too; they had already been here at Tatsumi River for half a year, and some of them even longer than that.</p><p>Despite his sleep deprivation, life suddenly seemed to flow back into Minato. He carried me on his back all the way to Konoha with a lively spring in his step, and a soft grin was forever creeping around the corner of his mouth. When we broke for camp, he would sit by the fire, pull out a square of cardstock with curling edges, and stare at until he went to sleep. It was easy to see who he was thinking of.</p><p>I began thinking of people, too. I thought of my cousins and my aunt and my uncle, and then again of Akihiko. A month was a long time to be away from a best friend, especially when he was a clansman who lived mere houses away. It was the first time since I'd met him that I'd gone so long without his company.</p><p>One best friend couldn't replace another, but I couldn't help but think that I would feel at least a little better when I got to see him again.</p><hr/><p>I saw Itsuki-sensei one more time before he disappeared from my life completely. We had to stand together when we reentered the village, since we were out on the same mission scroll. He shuffled more than he walked, and he stared at the ground instead of looking at me.</p><p>He was a different man. Healthy, sun-tanned skin and energetic eyes had given way to gauntness and distracted glances; his hair, normally neat in its holder, was loose and spilling all over his shoulders. Ken-san kept a firm hand on his arm for the whole of his interaction with the gate guards.</p><p>He didn't say anything to me. Ken-san met eyes with Minato, nodded, and walked away; Sensei followed after him in silence, still staring at the ground.</p><p>And that was all. I spent several silent moments staring at his back as it disappeared into the village streets, an indecipherable storm of emotions whipping about in my head.</p><p>Then there was a sudden blip of <em>something</em>. I turned to my right, feeling as though I had just been touched by a familiar sensation, and found Akihiko standing there in the dusky sunlight, eagerly scanning the crowd. Somehow he was nearly an inch taller than he'd been when I'd last seen him, and his hair had gotten longer. It was still standing in spikes at the top, but it was beginning to look a little shaggy in the back.</p><p>"Hey, welcome back!" His smile widened into a grin once he realized I'd spotted him. I felt a burst of utter gladness at the sight of it. "You were gone <em>forever</em>. Don't ever leave me behind like that again! If I have to suffer one more D-rank without you guys, I can't be held responsible for my actions!" He let out a hearty laugh and affectionately began slapping my back.</p><p>My warm reply died in my throat the moment his hand landed. Abruptly, the only thing I could think was that the red of his shirt looked quite keenly like the burnt sienna of Hatsuta's sleeve.</p><p>"Suzu?" Akihiko hesitated at my wide-eyed silence. He slowly withdrew his hand.</p><p>"Oh," I said, snapping back into reality. I offered him my best sheepish look. "Er, sorry. I spaced out for a second there."</p><p>"Are you okay?" he queried concernedly. I reached up, pinched the skin of my cheek between my fingers, and pulled as hard as I could. Then I let out the breath I hadn't known I'd been holding.</p><p>Right. Everything was fine. There was no need to freeze up.</p><p>"Yeah, for the most part," I assured him, conjuring up the best smile that I could. "I'm just… still recovering, that's all."</p><p>"What happened?" Akihiko asked with growing alarm. Suspicion began to form in his gaze. "Where's Sensei? And Yoshiya?"</p><p>"Sensei already left," I said, resisting the need to begin shuffling my feet. My teammate's gaze was piercing. "He… um… wasn't feeling all that great."</p><p>"Wasn't feeling all that great" was vastly understating the matter, but explaining exactly what had happened to Itsuki-sensei would be a whole issue of its own. It was a poor deflection, but I didn't feel up to tackling that right now at all.</p><p>The furrow in Akihiko's brow deepened; I doubt I succeeded in deceiving him at all, but he seemed content to let it go for now. His concern was elsewhere.</p><p>"Yoshiya?" he prompted, insistently. "Where is he?"</p><p>Yoshiya was in Minato's pack, sealed in a black scroll and sitting stacked alongside the rest of our fallen comrades. My mouth went dry.</p><p>"He's not here," I whispered, lowering my gaze. "He's…"</p><p>Akihiko's hands fell to his sides. "He's—" he started, jaw falling open when I failed to complete my sentence. Inanely, I made the observation that he'd lost a tooth recently. "Is he—are you saying—"</p><p><em>Dead</em>. The word floated up between us, unspoken, like some sort of hazy, black smoke. I bit my lip and began twisting my fingers together. And then, just once, I nodded.</p><p>"You're serious," Akihiko said, stunned. There was a long pause, and when he spoke again, there was a quiver in his voice. "You… he's… what happened?"</p><p>"They were intercepted before they could deliver the message," Minato explained for me, having been following the conversation silently until now. "The Iwa forces did a number on them. Yoshiya-kun didn't make it."</p><p>I gave him a grateful look for his assistance, but when Akihiko turned his gaze on my cousin, it was one of blank disbelief. A shadow of something passed behind Minato-nii's gaze, but it was gone before I could identify what it was.</p><p>"Akihiko-kun, right?" he asked, sinking into a crouch so they were eye-level. "I'll release the body to Hokage-sama and it'll be turned over to his family as soon as the debriefing is finished. We can't say much more until then, though. Are you all right with that?"</p><p>Akihiko stood mute for a long moment. Then, finally, he nodded his head.</p><p>"Why don't you stop by the House tomorrow, Akihiko-kun?" my brother proposed, offering a small smile as he stood again. "We'll be able to talk more then. You're more than welcome to come, right, Suzu?"</p><p>He looked to me. I looked back down at my feet. "Right," I mumbled, lifting my hand and fitting it into his. Minato wrapped his fingers around mine and turned back to Akihiko.</p><p>"...I will come by," my teammate finally muttered, speech stiff and uncomfortable. His unease was almost tangible. Then, before I could compose myself enough to say anything else, he turned and fled.</p><p>On that off-key note, my cousin and I set off for home. I spent the walk back to the House in dejected silence while Minato strode on beside me, quiet once more.</p><p>Even hand-in-hand, the trek felt unnaturally long.</p><hr/><p>He was no longer a minor, so Minato had moved out of the House some time ago, but he still slept over with some frequency. He ate here often, too, to the point that it could be said that the House was still more his home than his own apartment was. I was not at all surprised to find that Kushina had decided to wait here for his return than at his own residence.</p><p>That was not to say, though, that she did not surprise me. She surprised both of us. She was standing in the hall the second the words "We're home" left Minato-nii's lips, and in another she had a hand fisted in his collar. I gasped and flattened myself against the shoe cubbies to avoid her angry charge.</p><p>"You asshole!" she snarled, without preamble. "It's been weeks since I last heard from you! I thought you were dead! You never responded even though I wrote so many letters, and they were saying the Iwa-nin were still advancing, and they wouldn't tell me your status when I inquired because I wasn't family—"</p><p>"K-Kushina!" Minato yelped, throwing his hands up. "I'm sorry, I—communications were cut off, and I wasn't permitted to send personal correspondence once they were reestablished—"</p><p>"Apology not accepted, you heartless bastard!" Kushina cried and shoved him. I ducked under him as he fell and then scrambled out of the genkan, deciding that the whole of it might be considered a blast zone. "Do you think this isn't your fault? Do you still not get this? Do you <em>know</em> what it feels like to be told 'I'm sorry, but you're not permitted to his personal information if you're not a family relation' when I've spent over half a decade looking after you and worrying about your sorry ass?"</p><p>Minato woozily pulled himself upright, putting one hand on the wall to steady himself. "I'm sorry I made you worry, but you know I can't help village policies, Kushina…" he mumbled, shrinking a bit.</p><p>"Can't help it my ass!" the redhead yelled. And then, without any warning, she burst into tears. "Get a clue, you moron! I'm not telling you to change village policies! They wouldn't be an issue if you would finally just marry me already!"</p><p>Minato froze as if petrified. A deadly hush fell, and I caught sight of Auntie and Uncle slowly poking their heads out from behind the doorframe like they were a pair of backpackers gawking at a bear. Then Minato made a slight choking noise, prompting Kushina to let out a noise of frustration, sit down next to me, and begin wiping angrily at her face with her hands.</p><p>"Can you believe this man?" she asked me. "Is it even worth crying over this worthless milksop?"</p><p>"U-um…" I stuttered, glancing at the now-mortified Minato before sending a frantic look to my foster parents. Auntie Reiko's face immediately melted into sympathy, and Uncle Souhei shot her an annoyed look. I suddenly got the feeling that it had taken him a while to propose, too.</p><p>Flushing furiously, Minato spent a hapless moment inarticulately working his jaw, stammering and making flustered noises. For a moment, even I was hard-pressed to believe that he had just defeated an entire contingent of Iwa ninjas and was being hailed as a returning war hero. It was almost comical.</p><p>Despite the heavy tint of hero worship, I think that even back then I had begun to suspect that Minato, however skilled and shrewd, was a timorous person by nature. It didn't often show, since he was smart and he planned his moves carefully, but in matters of emotional intelligence, he tended to drop the ball. Even in—or perhaps especially in—his close relationships.</p><p>When I had been a teenager, I had often looked back at this moment and sneered. By then Kushina had told me the story of her and Minato's courtship, and it had contained cringeworthy amounts of dithering. Not on behalf of Kushina—she had been blessed with self-awareness from a young age, so she had known right away what she wanted—but of Minato, who had been a barrel of endless prevarication. I can only imagine how maddening it must have been for a straightforward person like Kushina to have a wishy-washy crush that flipped from unbearably romantic—swooping to the rescue like a shining knight in armor, complimenting her hair, carrying her like a princess—to unbearably awkward like he was a revolving door. There had even been a point when they'd been fourteen or so that he had gotten so embarrassed by his attraction to her that he had gone out of his way to avoid her as much as possible. For a teenage boy still squarely under the thumb of puberty, such embarrassment had perhaps been inevitable, but his reaction had been so extreme that it eventually convinced Kushina he'd come to hate her. That misunderstanding had nearly ended them, according to her.</p><p>Six years later saw her in a similar crisis. Ninjas have been in the habit of marrying young since the beginning of time, and now that they were the proper age, Kushina—along with no small number of her peers—had been expecting the man she loved to finally pop the question. But the proposal never came, and the war dragged on. Their assignments began forcing them to spend less and less time together, and Minato became more and more preoccupied as new responsibilities began piling themselves on his plate. Then, after vanishing for half a year, he stopped returning her letters. No one could deny it looked bad.</p><p>Uncharitably, one might call that "being strung along." I had certainly been lacking in charity back then, and had often spent my time privately deriding my cousin's lack of sensitivity. Of course, it would be several years until I got married myself, so I had had no idea. Not about the serious social—and even moral—implications that Minato had been weighing, nor about just how much it meant that, in that moment, he looked Kushina in the face and threw all those considerations away.</p><p>But that had been a different time. As for nine-year-old me, she had only been speechless when Minato pulled himself together and knelt in front of Kushina. She hadn't been thinking much of anything, really, when he cupped his hands around Kushina's and apologized with blistering, excruciating, visceral sincerity, "Forgive me, Kushina. I wasn't thinking of you. It was wrong of me. Very wrong."</p><p>Kushina hiccuped and met his gaze, still trying to glare. Then her puckered face dissolved into tears all over again.</p><p>"I thought I'd lost you," she wept, pressing her forehead against his knuckles. "They wouldn't tell me anything. Ojisan and obasan couldn't do anything. I thought you were gone."</p><p>"I'm sorry," Minato murmured, leaning forward and touching his head to hers. "It won't happen again, Kushina. You're right; I've put off making a decision for far too long."</p><p>His voice was filled with conviction. There was a beat. Then, slowly, Kushina lifted her head, looking like she scarcely believed.</p><p>"Kushina," Minato said, drawing back so he could look her in the eye, "would you marry me so I can make it right?"</p><p>Nine-year-old-me couldn't have grasped everything that those words said about the man called Minato Namikaze. Teenaged-me, either. But that was the nature of a human being's existence.</p><hr/><p>Between my homecoming, my brother's proposal, and my reunion with the rest of my cousins, I almost didn't get a chance to talk to my aunt and uncle. But after everything had settled down and meals had been eaten and welcome-homes had been given—after everyone had brushed their teeth and changed their clothes and finally gone to bed—I somehow found myself on an adult's hip again, arms looped around my aunt's neck. She was shaking as she put her cheek against my head.</p><p>I shook too. I even began to cry a bit, despite having been mostly dry-eyed for the past few weeks. In Auntie's arms I almost couldn't remember what being in the bunker had been like. She was almost enough to chase away the memory of it altogether.</p><p>"We thought we'd lost you, too," Uncle Souhei murmured, and I felt his fingers slide through my hair. "There was no word of anything at all. We thought that it was likely Minato would be all right, but we had no idea about you."</p><p>Auntie began to cry, too.</p><hr/><p>Akihiko arrived to find the House ablaze with activity. It went far beyond the already significant ruckus expected of a household of this size, but that was because preparations for a wedding were already underway. The actual marriage itself would only be a matter of adding Kushina's name to the family registry, but Auntie was adamant that there be some sort of ceremony, however small. The clan agreed, and well-wishers were pouring in at a constant rate to give their congratulations and offer their assistance.</p><p>"What?" Akihiko asked me after I'd managed to twist my way through the sudden sea of vases and flower stands that had managed to appear on our porch over the course of a single morning. It was no small task, and there was more than one collision.</p><p>"Minato-nii proposed to his girlfriend last night," I explained once I'd finally reached him, hopping on one foot and ruefully rubbing a stubbed toe. "People keep coming to give us stuff despite the fact that he technically doesn't even live here anymore."</p><p>"Last night?" my teammate repeated incredulously. "And all of this is already going on?"</p><p>"Well, you know Minato-nii is kind of famous now," I pointed out. "And he was already well-known in the clan before that. I guess news just travels fast."</p><p>"And… what? Are they getting married tomorrow or something?" he asked, aghast.</p><p>"No… they're doing it next week."</p><p>Disbelieving was the only word to describe Akihiko's face. For a moment, he could only stand in speechless astonishment. And then, very suddenly, he looked angry.</p><p>"Are you telling me that's the first thing he did after captaining the end of a six-month campaign?" he demanded hotly. "Has he even gone to report to the war council yet? Has he even turned over the bodies to the Hokage yet?"</p><p>I took an automatic step back, eyebrows shooting up at the acrimony in his voice. "He's doing it right now," I said, holding up my hands warily. "It was too late to report to the Hokage when we arrived yesterday, so he went first thing this morning."</p><p>"Oh," Akihiko said. Just as quickly as he had swelled up, he deflated, shoulders slumping. I slowly lowered my arms.</p><p>There was a long beat of silence. Then the sound of people laughing inside the house wafted through the open window, and I felt the need to lower my head.</p><p>"...Let's go somewhere else," my friend muttered, turning away.</p><p>After a few minutes of wandering we found ourselves sitting on the swing set in one of the village's tiny parks, kicking at the dirt without really trying to move.</p><p>"What happened?" Akihiko finally asked, dragging a heel across the sandy soil beneath us. I gripped the long metal links of my seat's chains and looked down at my lap.</p><p>"They ambushed us," I mumbled after a moment. "And they wanted to know what the message was. But Itsuki-sensei wouldn't tell them, so they beat me up and stuff… and then…" I paused. "...And then they were going to kill me, but Yoshiya got mad and told them to kill him instead. And that he'd be a hero if they did."</p><p>Akihiko went a long time without saying anything. When I looked up again, he was staring at his hands. They were half-bandaged, cut up and callused from training.</p><p>"...They beat you up?" he finally asked, turning his face to me once more.</p><p>"Yeah," I nodded uncomfortably. "They… broke my ribs and stuff. And stepped on them. And, um… choked me."</p><p>A look of horror formed on his face, and I ducked my chin, not wanting to see the pity when it appeared.</p><p>"The iryou-nin got to me as soon as we were found, though," I hastened to add. "It, uh, really sucked, but I got better pretty quickly."</p><p>There was silence in reply. I chanced a glance back at him and saw that the same furious look he had worn earlier. Uneasily, I wondered if I ought to consider that better or worse than pity.</p><p>"And Sensei?" Akihiko asked, jaw harshly set.</p><p>"I don't know, really," I confessed. "He didn't want to see me. But… he's in a bad way. I don't think… I don't think they're going to let him be our teacher anymore."</p><p>That was the reason why I'd been kept at Tatsumi River for so long, after all. He had been declared unfit for duty, and since no genin was allowed to lead a team, even a team made only of herself, I hadn't been allowed to make the trip back to Konoha alone. Not that I would have felt particularly confident doing so. I had all the orienteering skill of a drunken pet hamster.</p><p>Akihiko looked a little like he had expected something like this, though the resulting frown was still formidable. It was an ill-fitting expression for a boy whom I'd always seen smiling.</p><p>"What do you think they'll do with us?" he asked. "With Team 11?"</p><p>"They'll have to give us a new assignment," I said, and bit my lip. "Do you think they'll split us up?"</p><p>Akihiko's response to that was to give the ground a rather sharp kick. His swing jerked backwards and began wobbling violently. Frown deepening, he planted both of his feet in the sand to still himself.</p><p>That about summed up my feelings on the matter as well. I pushed down a wave of bitterness. Team 11 wouldn't be needing a reassignment if it hadn't been given a mission that was so horrendously above its paygrade. Those men behind the missions desk were the reason Yoshiya was gone in the first place.</p><p>And they'd given such little thought about it. They gave such little thought to everything. They only thing they were concerned about was getting the assignments out. I knew deep down that I couldn't really blame them, though. They were only doing their jobs, and they were being forced into work that they hadn't been prepared for, either. They'd once been ordinary chuunin, Academy instructors and regular worker bees, with no training in war tactics or logistics beyond what they'd learned from their own days in the Academy.</p><p>But despite it all I still couldn't forgive their negligence. It had been war and they had been without guidance, but that was a bitterly cold comfort when Yoshiya had come home in a body bag because of them.</p><hr/><p>It was with great displeasure that, a week and a half later, we found ourselves meeting with same dispatcher who had threatened Itsuki-sensei to take the mission. When he received Team 11 for the summons and found half of it missing, it took several seconds for him to find his tongue again.</p><p>"Where are the rest of you?" he asked us blankly, gathering himself.</p><p>"Gone," was the glacial reply. We had wondered if Itsuki-sensei would appear at this meeting, but neither of us were surprised to find that he wasn't here.</p><p>"Even the kid?" The dispatcher's eyebrows rose.</p><p>"Funeral was last Friday," Akihiko informed shortly. The man behind the desk took on a look of dismay.</p><p>"Is that so?" he asked, grimacing. "So it ended in a shitshow after all."</p><p>"Yes, thank you for that," I scowled at his flippancy. "I did so enjoy taking a sabbatical in an Iwa bunker."</p><p>"Got a mouth on you, don't you, girl?" the dispatcher returned, looking like he was holding back a scowl of his own. "Don't blame me. The order came from above." Then, before I could snark off a reply, he looked over his shoulder and yelled, "Why are are these two here? I can't give anything to two genin on their own! They need reassignment!"</p><p>"You're supposed to do it!" a haggard-looking young man, seated on the floor, called back from behind a massive tower of paper. I could make out the bags under his eyes even at this distance.</p><p>"What?" The dispatcher paled. "That's not—I don't have that authority!"</p><p>"Wartime Operations Act, section 7E! You do!"</p><p>"You're kidding," the dispatcher groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "They're pushing even this stuff onto me?..."</p><p>Though he grumbled with his palm half on his face, he reached into a drawer and began rummaging around. Eventually he produced a binder and began flipping through it at rapid speeds. His brow furrowed more and more the closer he got to the end, and when he reached the back cover, he actually went back to the beginning and went through it again, taking the time to be more thorough.</p><p>"We don't have any jounin-sensei left," he whispered, disbelieving, once he'd completed the second circuit. "You can't be serious."</p><p>Despite its low volume, this announcement had people all around us turning to look at the dispatcher with disbelief.</p><p>"What?" a woman seated a few chairs away from him got up. "Did you just say there are no jounin-sensei left? That's impossible."</p><p>"Look!" the man snapped, and began going through the binder again. "WIA, KIA, KIA, squad full, WIA, KIA, WIA… they're all dead, injured, or they've already got teams!"</p><p>Akihiko and I glanced at each other as the Missions Office burst into clamor. The whole bloc of people working by the windows pulled out scrolls and began writing at once, speaking softly but urgently to each other under their breaths. The two clients waiting closest to the door outside, poor souls, nearly jumped into the ceiling when the previously calm room of intensely-focused ninjas exploded with chatter.</p><p>The dispatcher tangled a hand in his hair.</p><p>"We can't use the chuunin to teach," he began muttering to himself, reaching down and pulling out another, thicker binder. "Will they take genin in their squads? But the only open teams are the eight-man-cells…"</p><p>We looked on in silence as the man turned pages, muttered more, and began to despair. Then, out of nowhere, the woman who had spoken earlier said, "Promote them."</p><p>"<em>What?</em>" Akihiko and I were decidedly <em>not</em> silent at that. The dispatcher echoed us, turning to her with a look of utter incredulity.</p><p>"Promote them? Are you insane?" he demanded. "They graduated six months ago!"</p><p>"The issue is just that genin aren't allowed to take missions without someone of a higher rank supervising them, right?" the lady reasoned. "Just promote them and register their group status as 'partnered' so they don't get sucked into the eight-mans that deploy to the war front. Then just have them do co-ops with other teams. Easy."</p><p>"Are we even allowed to do that?"</p><p>"Wartime Operations Act section 7F, clause 4," the sleep-deprived chuunin muttered, still working through his papers like a zombie.</p><p>"It's fine," the woman urged as the dispatcher pulled out a third binder and began flipping through it with a doubtful look. Once I caught sight of the photo inserts on the pages, I realized it the General Forces' registry.</p><p>"...They're covered in commendations," he said after a moment of scanning our pages, hesitatingly. Akihiko immediately blew up.</p><p>"Are you trying to get us killed?" he snarled, slamming his hands onto the desk. "First you send our team to the front lines, and now you want to asspull promote us? Do we look like cannon fodder to you?"</p><p>"Akihiko," I hissed. Though I wouldn't mind smashing some desks in myself, the last thing we needed to do was piss off a man who could potentially ruin our lives. "It's the court-martial guy. Shut up before he decides to indict you."</p><p>The dispatcher favored me with a withering look, but at least he didn't immediately decide to send us off to the border.</p><p>"Hey, not bad, kids," the woman commented, peering at our profiles. "You know, if they were still on, you probably would've been in the Chuunin Exams anyway."</p><p>Despite myself, I felt a hot flash of temper, and Akihiko and I shot her synchronized death glares. If this was going to happen, we both knew, we had this person to thank.</p><p>"Enough, you two," the dispatcher cut in sharply, before anything else could be said. "Look, you don't like the idea and I get it. You came back from a bad mission and you're hurt and you're missing your teammate. But Konoha's military strength is declining at a rate faster than anyone has ever seen. Do you really think you have to luxury to pick and choose where you can go?"</p><p>"Didn't Shodaime-sama found this village so people would stop sending children off to their deaths?" Akihiko shot back contemptuously, and I was briefly reminded that he was something of a history buff, at least where wars and famous shinobi were concerned. "A fat lot of good you're doing for all that."</p><p>"You're not children, you're ninjas," the dispatcher snapped in reply. "In the end you belong to the village, and right now, we're at war. There's no time to waste coddling you."</p><p>Akihiko made to open his mouth, but I grabbed his arm and interrupted tightly, "You're right. We're ninjas. We'll do what we have to." To my teammate, I said quietly, "Don't do anything stupid. I'm on the line here, too."</p><p>Akihiko eventually backed down, though he made no attempt to hide his scorn. The dispatcher hmpthed loudly and set out a blank scroll, which he proceeded to fill out and stamp with an official seal.</p><p>"Here," he said, holding it out to me. "Take it to the Tower to change your IDs and get your vests. And if you need a mission later, come back after eleven. My shift'll be over by then."</p><p>I took it with a pinched expression. "Gladly," I replied.</p><p>The dispatcher's hand twitched, and I wondered if he was resisting the urge to flip us off. Akihiko certainly looked like he was ready to give <em>him</em> the finger.</p><p>"Let's go," I muttered, turning on my heel.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Notes:</p><p>1. "The Missions Office"... "The whole bloc of people"... "The two clients standing closest to the door outside"</p><p>Though the Missions Desk in Naruto is portrayed as been in a huge empty room, I really find myself doubting that such a huge piece of Academy real estate was set aside for one tiny row of chairs. I also doubt a Hidden Village as big as Konoha could assign all its missions from a single counter manned by a small handful of people. Thus, the Missions Office is full of administrative chuunin hard at work.</p><p>The concept of clients waiting outside to be seen comes from Tazuna's introduction at the beginning of the Land of Waves arc. Also, the idea that paranoid intel-hoarding shinobi would strive to keep civilians from hovering around in a room full of sensitive information.</p><p>2. "Wartime Operations Act, section 7E!'"</p><p>I never felt that the slipshod nature of the wartime promotions were portrayed well in the previous draft, and I wanted to try making a point of how the war has made all sorts of otherwise unthinkable "shortcuts" commonplace. Hopefully, between this, Suzu's comments on the rush-job educations at the Academy, and Itsuki's status as an "oh-shit" (or, as Akihiko would phrase it, "asspulled") jounin, I've done a better job.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Eviscerated</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I'm home," I half-called, half-sighed as I unzipped my vest. I dropped it on the couch once I'd made it to the sitting room, still feeling a little stiff; I was still not quite used to wearing it. It was a heavy thing, loaded with more than just physical weight.</p><p>Auntie was out, so Uncle was the one who greeted me. He was sitting at the dining room table with a blank-covered black book in his hand. What seemed to be a whole ream of paper was spread out in front of him. Each and every sheet was covered in lines and lines of writing that, rather curiously, didn't look like Japanese. He swept everything into a neat pile and put it away before I could make out much more about it, though.</p><p>"Cipher work?" I guessed. Ojisan was an iryou-nin and it was unusual to see him spending his time on spycraft, but I didn't find it terribly surprising. He was a ninja, after all, and being a ninja sometimes just meant encryption.</p><p>"Pretty much," Uncle agreed, but didn't elaborate. I was too much of a shinobi myself by now to pry, so I just sat down across from him and rolled my neck with a tired sigh.</p><p>"How did it go?" he asked, folding the little black book shut.</p><p>"Well," I reported, because it had. It'd been draining and I was exhausted, but at least it was done now. "I passed with flying colors. They expect me to come back in a month to follow up, but the psych eval itself was totally fine." I quirked a smile. "I'm well within the limits of my sanity, at least for now."</p><p>"Sanity's a relative term," Uncle replied with a humorous smile of his own. "But I'm glad to hear it. Did you like the doctor?"</p><p>"Hayato-sensei? Yeah, I liked him a lot. I'm glad you told me about him. How'd you make friends with him?" I asked curiously.</p><p>I hadn't known prior to Uncle's suggestion that I could pick who did my psych evals, so long as the person was qualified for it, but now that I did, I was probably going to never ask for anyone but Hayato Yamanaka again. Kind, but still-matter-of-fact, not cruel or impersonal, but not patronizing or babying either… not <em>pitying</em>. He was a good doctor.</p><p>"You know, I was a doctor once, too," Uncle Souhei said, a little dryly. "Hayato was usually around the camps in the Second War, putting people's heads on right when we field medics couldn't. We were tent buddies all the time. But besides that? He was my genin teammate."</p><p>"Really?" I gasped, delightfully surprised by this unexpected discovery. "But Hayato-sensei said he never goes into the field anymore. And that he's still a chuunin."</p><p>"I don't go into the field anymore, either," Uncle pointed out. "And it wasn't like he was required to be promoted because I was. He's fine with his rank as it is; he's told me that himself. Not everyone is meant to become a jounin, you know."</p><p>His words made my cheer fade, and I found myself going silent. Itsuki-sensei had often said that he was only a jounin in name, and that he'd only been promoted because no one else was left. Not in humility or self-deprecation, but as a fact. Considering what had happened to Akihiko and me just a few days ago, I was willing to believe it. I didn't feel particularly like a chuunin myself.</p><p>"Do you think," I began quietly, "that if they hadn't promoted Sensei before he was ready, everything that's happened… wouldn't have, you know…?"</p><p>Uncle put on a knowing look.</p><p>"Happened?" he finished for me, placing his chin on his hand. "It's hard to say. I don't know. You can't change things once they've passed. And even if you were to know ahead of time..."</p><p>He trailed off, suddenly pensive and silent. I waited for him to finish, but he never did. His gaze began to stray about, drifting left, and then right, and eventually coming to a stop upon the black book still resting in his hand.</p><p>"Never mind it," he sighed and stowed it in his back pocket. "Things are as they are."</p><p>I creased my brow and wondered how to respond to that. Both Auntie and Uncle had lived through the Second War, and they were bound to have lost people of their own. I didn't know who Uncle might be thinking of right now, though. They never spoke of those days.</p><p>We were both quiet for a little while, just sitting at the table and listening to sounds of the empty house. It wasn't often this quiet around here, but today, we were the only ones home. Auntie was out with the toddlers at the park, the Academy-aged kids were at school, Chiharu and Jinta and Akira were all training with their teams, Tenrou and Nodoka had missions... and the oldest of us had already gone to spread their wings in the world. Nanako was out fighting with the Kumo-nin in the north, and Minato—</p><p>I sat up straight, feeling a small twang at the edge of my awareness. Minato is here, a voice within my head informed. And not just Minato, I realized as I furrowed my brow and found that the one small twang was actually two. Two people, standing close together outside like the notes of a perfect fourth played in unison. I looked over toward the hallway; the sound of the front door sliding open reached my ears a moment later.</p><p>"Tadaima!" chorused a set of two voices, one light and feminine, the other deeper and male. A grin spread over my face.</p><p>The oldest of us had already gone to spread their wings, but at least this one often came home to roost.</p><p>"Okaeri," Uncle and I both chimed, smiling. Minato and Kushina appeared in the doorway, dressed in casual clothing and wearing identical grins.</p><p>"We made cake!" my sister-in-law beamed, holding up a large rectangular box. "<em>Big</em> cake!"</p><p>Uncle Souhei began to chuckle. He made a welcoming gesture.</p><p>"Are you telling me," he snorted amusedly, "that you took a whole week off so you could spend your honeymoon <em>baking</em>?"</p><p>I found this puzzling, too. I understood that travel wasn't particularly an option at the moment, given the fact that Konoha was at war and both Kushina and Minato were very infamous people, but there were plenty of nice places within the village, too. They could've gone to one of the onsens or something.</p><p>"Don't knock it, old man," Kushina snorted back, coming over and setting the box down on the table. Uncle Souhei, who had been used to being respectfully referred to as "ojisan" by her, let out a startled little laugh at the insulting address. Given that that was what Kushina had likely called her own father, it was probably quite endearing. "Baking's fun. Besides, we're doing other stuff, too. I never realized that having my own house would be so awesome."</p><p>Until now, both Minato and Kushina had been living in small single apartments. Minato hadn't wanted to take up a whole house in the compound just for himself, and Kushina, though she had a jounin's decent pay, had been pinching pennies. Now that there were two of them, though, Minato had happily staked his claim on one of the vacant homes near the compound's edge, and the rest was history.</p><p>"I never realized that you were a gardening maniac," Minato-nii replied, seating himself on the cushion next to Uncle with a smile. "You'd think an Earth Release master had gotten into a fight in our backyard," he whispered to me conspiratorially.</p><p>"You'll be grateful when those fruit trees start to supply you with the means for pie," Kushina retorted as she took the spot next to me. "And I'll have you know that I make <em>excellent </em>fruit pies."</p><p>"I do know," Minato replied happily, a warm grin on his face. "All of your cooking is excellent."</p><p>Kushina swatted at him from across the table, but there was no doubt she was pleased by the praise. I giggled. I doubted a cuter couple existed.</p><p>Things unfolded into small talk. They had come to deliver cake, but it seemed that that had just been an excuse to come over and socialize. An odd way to spend a honeymoon, but it seemed they were content to just run around being unrepentantly adorable newlyweds. Well, I considered with a faint pang, this would be the last time in a long time that their days would be so peaceful; perhaps they were just looking to enjoy it while they could. Once the week was over, after all, they were going back to war.</p><p>Eventually the conversation wound itself around to the subject of my promotion. They'd seen the vest lying discarded on the couch, and when they asked who it belonged to, I claimed ownership. Congratulations immediately went into order, but their delight quickly faded when I was obliged to recount the circumstances of its origins. It was a sour story, to say the least, and by the time I had finished Minato and Kushina both were frowning severely.</p><p>Looking to change the subject, I quickly broke off talk of the Missions Office and said, as though suddenly remembering, "Oh, but that's right, niichan, I've been meaning to ask you about something. I'm having issues with one of my seals, and I think it might have to do with the Serizawa factor."</p><p>Minato-nii's look of displeasure did not fully dissipate, but he saw my attempt for what it was and decided to leave it be for now.</p><p>"What's going wrong with it?" he asked.</p><p>"I'm trying to link something to a storage seal, but the fragmenting is uncontrollable," I explained. "I've tried seven different baseline arrangements but no matter what I do the middle seal keeps cracking. It's a set of three," I clarified when they gave me confused looks.</p><p>"Three linked seals, huh?" Kushina asked musingly. "Do you think we can see them?"</p><p>"Sure. Let me go get them."</p><p>I stood, dashed upstairs, went to my room, grabbed the seals I'd been working on since my return from Tatsumi River, thought to take some extra paper and a pencil, and then skipped two steps at a time back down to the sitting room. In no time at all I was spreading the three scrolls out for their perusal. Uncle took one look at the massive ink squiggle blobs, chuckled ruefully, and excused himself.</p><p>"Oh, I see what you mean," Minato-nii said once he'd left and we'd all crammed ourselves together on the same side of the table. "The middle one has to support two links. It's under a lot of stress… I'm not surprised you're having issues."</p><p>"Your fuuinjutsu is so <em>linear</em>," Kushina exclaimed as she picked up the big master seal. "It's like a block. You probably could save yourself a lot of space if you took the stuff in these two quadrants and arranged them into spirals."</p><p>"I've mostly been copying out of Minato-nii's old notes," I replied, rubbing my neck. "Can baselines be circular? He never drew any circular ones in his notebooks."</p><p>"Eh, you're still reading out of those old things?" Minato asked, looking a little embarrassed. He'd left me a lot of his old fuuinjutsu supplies when he'd moved out, mostly because he'd upgraded to better-quality stuff, but it looked like he'd forgotten his early works had still been mixed in there. "Those were from before the summer Kushina's mother visited and gave me tips. It's more of Jiraiya-sensei's style…"</p><p>"Well, that explains it," Kushina commented, tracing a finger around the circumference of the seal. "No wonder it's so bulky and kekkai-esque. Very Jiraiya-sensei."</p><p>Jiraiya, if I recalled correctly, was actually quite well-known for his barrier jutsu. I wondered where he'd learned his sealing from. His teammate had been Hashirama Senju's granddaughter, so it was possible he'd had the chance to learn from Mito-sama when she'd still been alive. That would make sense; from there he'd probably gone on to develop his own style by incorporating concepts from other jutsu that he knew. Since kekkai were usually big, solid things, Kushina classifying his style as "bulky" made sense, too.</p><p>"You don't need something so static for this," Minato said thoughtfully, tapping the problematic middle seal. "With some trimming we could probably improve its performance quite a bit. But it also bears asking if the two-way connection is needed in the first place. Is the third seal necessary?"</p><p>"There has to be a physical connection," I replied doubtfully. "If I get rid of the third I can't touch what comes out of the second."</p><p>At that, Kushina gave me a dubious look.</p><p>"That's going to involve a lot of stretch," she said. "Your kunai would disintegrate if the seals were more than half a foot apart."</p><p>"It's going to use ninja wire," I informed, and pointed to the master seal again, where the verb <em>maku </em>was written. "That's why the alignment matrix has a coiling mechanism, see?"</p><p>Suddenly, Minato's eyes lit up with comprehension.</p><p>"Oh, I see what you want to do," he exclaimed. "You're trying to simulate the use of shuriken-led wires without actually throwing shuriken. You obviously can't get the same wrapping motion with just a propulsion matrix, since the angle will be wrong, but creating a crease in space to bypass distance and then physically manifesting an object… that's actually not too dissimilar to the concept behind Hiraishin. You've got a better grasp on space-time ninjutsu than I realized, Suzu."</p><p>"I didn't think of anything as complicated as that. I just got the idea off the kunai you gave me," I informed sheepishly, pulling out said knife from my holster and holding it so the sealwork on the handle was visible. And that was the truth, because I had not the slightest inkling of knowledge about the physics-defying study known as time-space ninjutsu. "I hope you don't mind."</p><p>Minato grinned at the sight of it and ruffled a hand in my hair. "Not at all. Nidaime-sama invented the technique, after all—I just adapted it for my own use."</p><p>I let out a laugh and reached up to ruffle his hair in return. Obligingly, Minato lowered his head for me.</p><p>"So let me get this straight," Kushina said, shaking her head a bit at our antics. "Basically, what you plan to do is use this big master seal to hold the wire. You'll put that second seal down on your target, and from a distance you'll activate the third. The second seal will pull wire from the master seal and explode out on the target with the force from this propulsion matrix," she put a finger on the character for "burst" in the center of the second seal, "and the third will anchor that wire back on you once the target has been bound. Am I right?"</p><p>"Got it in one," I confirmed, giving her an admiring look. Kushina immediately flashed me a cocky grin.</p><p>"I <em>am</em> an Uzumaki, you know," she boasted. "I grew up doing this stuff."</p><p>"Only by force, according to your mother," Minato put in teasingly. "She told me pretty often that I was a much more well-behaved pupil than you were."</p><p>Kushina threw him a dirty look, but didn't reply, which probably meant that it was true. I giggled again.</p><p>"Anyway," she went on pointedly, "if that's what you're aiming for, Suzu, you're probably better off just taking this big activation mechanism in the middle seal out. Since it only goes off when you activate the third seal, all you need to do is thread a trigger through the same link you're using to express the anchoring mechanism. Here, just let me..."</p><p>Taking a sheet of the paper I'd brought down and plucking the pencil up in her left hand, Kushina sketched out a rough draft of what the improved seal would look like. I oohed as Minato leaned over me.</p><p>"And now there's room for stabilization," he said eagerly, pointing at the blank space the activation mechanism had once occupied. "And you could put in vectors to guide the direction of the propulsion. And you could add a mechanism to adjust the number of wires you want to use at once!"</p><p>"That'd be useful," Kushina murmured, eyebrows rising, as she began scribbling in his ideas. "Hey, if you link this portion to the third seal, too, don't you think…"</p><p>Quite suddenly a whole lot of jargon I didn't understand began flying between the two. Kushina pulled out another sheet of paper and drew out her suggestion. Minato excitedly began to point out more and more possibilities, and then somehow, before I knew it, I was looking at a set of seals that bore only a passing resemblance to the ones I had come up with on my own.</p><p>"I guess they had more problems with them than I thought," I said, bewildered, once they had finished with their modifications.</p><p>"Oh, that's not true," Minato quickly assured me, waving a hand. "You were right about the Serizawa factor issue. It probably would have worked fine as it was if we'd just fixed that."</p><p>"Probably?" Kushina repeated slyly. She tapped the pencil on the master seal.</p><p>"Well, there might have been a few other things we would have needed to adjust," Minato acquiesced. "But other than that I'm sure it would've been okay."</p><p>"Thanks, niichan," I said wryly, not at all fooled. Kushina began to laugh.</p>
<hr/><p>The next day was not nearly as lighthearted as the last. Akihiko's morning greeting consisted of this:</p><p>"Are you <em>finally</em> ready go on a mission, then?"</p><p>He was panting hard. The training log in front of him was splintered badly on one side, and I knew grief-induced anger when I saw it. Well, he probably needed take his outlets where he could get them… I sure as hell wasn't going to be one of them, though.</p><p>"I'm not going to apologize for looking after my mental health," I replied sharply. "And it's not like the village would have let me take anything major without the psych eval, anyway."</p><p>He gave me a mutinous look. "Aren't you so calm and collected," he bit out, turning and bringing his leg up to give the training post another wincingly hard kick. "Yoshiya would be proud."</p><p>His name hurt to hear as much as the implied insult of <em>you don't care</em> did. I bit my lip, breathed in through my nose, and said, "That's too far, Akihiko."</p><p>His shin connected with the log again, and a large sliver of wood came flying off. It snapped backwards and struck him across the forehead as if awarding him a cosmic comeuppance.</p><p>"Shit," he hissed and clapped a hand over the stinging cut. I grimaced and began searching for a bandage and some antiseptic in my belt pouch. That was probably going to leave a nasty mark.</p><p>Akihiko had been scowling when I'd located the items and stepped forward with them in hand, but by the time I was actually rubbing the bandage across his skin, his lips had softened into a guilty frown.</p><p>"Sorry," he mumbled, looking at his feet. "You're right. That was bad. I…"</p><p>"You're forgiven," I mumbled back, recalling my own experience with mourning outbursts. Even as an adult, those sorts of reactions were hard to control. "Just… don't do it again."</p><p>Akihiko nodded. We were far too old to hold hands at this point, and I doubted a hug would go over well, so we settled for marking our reconciliation with an awkward shoulder-elbow bump-thing. There was an uncomfortable silence.</p><p>"Guess we should go get a mission, then," I tried, smiling weakly.</p><p>"Yeah," Akihiko agreed, still staring at the grass.</p><p>Neither of us moved. We just kept standing there. The silence was miserable; it had been easy not to think about what a wreck things were when I'd been busy with my sealing project or worrying about my evaluation, but now the terrible truth was staring me straight in the face once more: Team 11 had been split and gutted, and now it was empty, a mere shell of the amazing, incredible, limitless squad it had once been. It would never be the same, never again. Sensei had gone off to God knows where and Yoshiya was dead forever.</p><p>"Are you crying?" Akihiko asked, horrified. "I really am sorry! I wasn't thinking and I didn't mean it—"</p><p>"No!" I denied, swiping my hands across my face. "I'm not crying! It's fine!"</p><p>"But—"</p><p>"I'm not crying!" I insisted. "Let's just go get a mission!"</p><p>I slapped my hands across my cheeks and then power walked away before he could respond, sticking my chin out in an attempt to ward off any more tears. If I stayed like this, I'd never recover. <em>Work</em> was what was needed now, badly.</p><p>There was a brief pause, and then I heard Akihiko's feet crunching in the grass behind me.</p>
<hr/><p>Work was what we got. And what we kept on getting, well after I had calmed down. Akihiko was throwing himself at it with a will. Now that we were chuunin, we had the clearance to carry correspondence for the war operations, and there was an endless number of messages to be delivered at any time of the day. Sometimes we would get lucky and things would only need to be shuffled about in the village, but other days, they would need to go to the outposts. And the outposts were <em>everywhere</em>, radiating out from Konoha like sunrays in all directions for miles and miles. Life suddenly became a gauntlet of endless running.</p><p>Akihiko preferred these running missions, though, because we could take more of them. Co-ops with other squads took time and effort to coordinate, and most squad leaders and jounin-sensei already had their hands full with the teammates they actually knew and cared about. People were having a hard enough time keeping themselves together; there was no concern to be spared for two orphaned genin who weren't even genin anymore. Cold as that was, though, I couldn't blame them. I probably would have been the same if I had had a squad of my own.</p><p>An echo of Tatsumi River's lonesomeness began to permeate my days. Of course, my family was around to keep things from reaching an unbearable level, but they were busy, too, and I had never had an abundance of friends. I'd only had two of them, and the one that was still alive was doing his best to work himself into oblivion.</p><p>I don't remember those days very well. Truth be told, there wasn't much to remember about them. They had been empty, mindless days. I worked; I trained; I practiced my calligraphy; I ate and I slept and then I did it all again. There had been a point where Uncle Souhei took it upon himself to teach me the trick to chakra flow—he might have felt bad that I had no sensei to mind my development, and he seemed to enjoy the chance to observe me work—but beyond that I can't recall anything of significance happening at all.</p><p>It took a long time for gaping wound that was the remains of Team 11 to stop bleeding. By the time we were ready to try prodding it again, we were a little too raw to tell anyone else about what we were really feeling. Perhaps that was why neither Akihiko or I were able to help each other in a really meaningful way; if we had, it wouldn't have been so hard to for us to rely on each other. Both then, and later on...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Death Valley (1)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Dear Suzu,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Just writing to let you know I'm still alive, as requested. The mission here is stalling a bit, so I wanted to fire off a few letters to change things up anyway.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You said the people of Tea Country were decently friendly, but I must disagree. I've never met more untalkative fellows in my life. Whisperings of a new Hidden Village down here have been circulating all over the place, but no matter how many leads I chase—when I find leads to chase at all—they refuse to say a thing about the source of this info. I've yet to hear anyone breathe a helpful word about their actual physical location, and that's even after I've made friends with street rats in every possible corner of this country. The east, the west, the north and the south, wherever I go, they all just point in the opposite direction and say "Over there."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>As you might guess, it's been frustrating. I've wasted a lot of time running after the wind down here. Never fear, though! Jiraiya the Gallant has not given up yet. I still have a few tricks left to try. I'll let you know if I find any success. I'm sure I will.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wishing you good health. No need to write back. Even if you try and send it with one of Minato's toads, I won't be in one place long enough to receive it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'll write again when I get the chance.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your friend,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jiraiya</em>
</p><hr/><p>The mission that marked the end of Akihiko's short chuunin career began with a man pretending to be a jounin.</p><p>He was very obviously not a jounin. If he'd been one of the jounin, he would've been up at the front of the caravan with the rest of officers, discussing our travel plans and arranging watches and deciding who was scouting first. As it was, he spent the whole time sitting on one of the carts, perched atop a stack of crates and gazing about with hawk-like eyes. Every few minutes he would murmur quietly under his breath into the mic concealed by his vest's collar. He wasn't trying too hard to keep up the pretense—he gave me a remarkably explicit "yes, I see you too, now stop with your conspicuous gawping" look when he caught me staring—so I concluded after a moment of consideration that he had camouflaged himself not for our sakes, but for the sakes of whatever enemy shinobi we might encounter on the journey. Any scouts who looked his way would probably just mistake him for a regular Leaf-nin, which would grant him an element of surprise that would have been otherwise lost if had he been wearing an ANBU uniform.</p><p>It was a little surprising to see him, but I supposed that that was just a testament to the scale of the operation. Nearly every nonessential chuunin had been called upon to participate in this mission, and it was shaping up to be one of Konoha's largest logistics operations to date. Three battalions' worth of reinforcements—three hundred shinobi—were heading out to join the battle at the western front, where Iwa was still hammering away at our forces. Accompanying these three battalions would be an entire supply caravan, escorted by a company made up of us and every other spare chuunin in the village. Once the battalions had settled themselves into the campaign, our company would then collect the wounded and the dead and bring them, along with the leftover transport equipment, back home.</p><p>If all went according to plan, we wouldn't see combat. If we encountered any enemies on the way, the three battalions would deal with them, and we would be moving quickly enough on the return journey to be a hard target. And even if we did get into a situation we couldn't run from, I was now aware that we had an ANBU squad up our sleeves to deal with it. Odds were we'd be just fine.</p><p>A note of Akihiko at the gates behind me quieted my thoughts. If one could equate chakra to sound, that's what I would describe it as: a pitch. In his case, a thing somewhere in the middle octave, maybe something a tenor could sing. Lower than me, but higher than the ANBU man off to my right.</p><p>Most people had notes to them. Even civilians did, though I often had a harder time hearing them. And sometimes, if I molded my chakra and concentrated hard, I could pick up other little pitches that made the single notes into intervals and chords. Lately it had occurred to me that this must be what it was like to be a chakra sensor, and that these little notes were me learning to distinguish between different chakra signatures.</p><p>Perhaps it was only because he was a childhood friend, but the sound of Akihiko was pleasant and comforting. Its base was a major third, two ascending notes that were filled with the promise of more to come: something deep and dark and energetic. Maybe, if I had to put a name on it, I'd call it a major seventh. Even that wasn't quite the right way to describe it, though. It was a hard thing to put into words.</p><p>I turned to watch his approach and noticed with amusement that he was looking at the ANBU man with a slight slant to his eyebrow. Before I could help it, I followed his gaze and found myself staring again. The ANBU swiveled his head around to shoot us both chiding, if not somewhat irritated, glances.</p><p>"That's not a jounin," Akihiko muttered to me as I dutifully looked away once more.</p><p>"No, definitely not," I agreed. "But I think he'd rather we not be too loud about that."</p><p>Akihiko was quiet for a moment, gaze distant with thought. And then, likely having come to the same conclusion I had, he shrugged and turned his face in the other direction. There was beat of silence.</p><p>"Um, happy birthday," I said after deciding that now was as good a time as any to give him the present I'd brought. I my hands together and holding out the box I'd been clutching.</p><p>A look of utter surprise took over Akihiko's face. His expression was so startled that I wondered if he'd forgotten his own birthday. But then a small, touched smile bloomed on his lips, and my nascent inquiry was silenced with a look of sunny fondness that I suddenly realized I hadn't seen from him in… how long? Too long. Even though he hadn't been looking particularly angry or sour, the effect softened his expression considerably.</p><p>"Thanks," he said as he took the box. It was not too big to grip in one hand, so he held it in his left and popped the top off with his right. A red-frosted cupcake with a little "10" decoration was produced.</p><p>"It's vanilla," Akihiko observed with some amount of pleasure. People always seemed to assume he was a chocolate sort of guy, but several years of friendship with him had equipped me with the knowledge that he rather disliked it as a cake flavor.</p><p>"It'd be a pretty bad present if I gave you something you didn't like," I replied dryly, though I was quietly encouraged by his reaction. "It's bad enough that it's perishable, to be honest. Especially since we're about to go on a mission."</p><p>In reply, Akihiko proceeded without preamble to pluck off the plastic topper, peel back the wrapper, and take an enormous bite of the confection, smearing red icing across the tip of his nose in the process. I found myself bursting into startled laughter, suddenly feeling better than I had all week. It was the silliest, most lighthearted, Akihiko-like thing he'd done in months.</p><p>"Want some?" he asked through a mouthful of cupcake, holding out a crumbling handful of its bisected remains in offering.</p><p>"I'll pass," I replied with an achingly familiar mix of amusement and disgust. Akihiko grinned knowingly, chewed and swallowed hugely, and then crammed the rest of it into his mouth.</p><p>Despite all the accoutrements of adulthood that had accumulated on his person—live kunai, a hitai-ate, a chuunin vest that had come to embody everything innocence-shattering about this war—he looked like a kid again. Like a little boy stuffing his face full of sugar.</p><p>I laughed again. At the very least, there was still this.</p><hr/><p>Though the summer had been hot, Konoha had been enjoying very fair weather when we'd left. Mid-September had brought about a pleasant, breezy autumn prelude, so a long travelling mission had not seemed like a terribly bad idea at the time. Despite its name, after all, Fire Country was not a particularly hot territory. It was true that the sun could be rather scorching, but the shade of tall trees was ample, and the wind was always there to stir the air beneath their branches. We had lakes and rivers and water all around, too.</p><p>All of that changed when we made it to the border of Grass and Earth. The trees had fallen away into flat prairie some time ago, but the wind had still been blowing nicely. Now it suddenly seemed to die. The grass thinned and gave way to rocky, cracked soil, and a weight of unmoving air seemed suddenly to fall atop us, crushing the whole world with stagnant aridity.</p><p>Akihiko and I groaned. Fair-haired, pale-skinned Namikazes as we were, we had donned extra layers to stave off sunburn the moment we reached Kusa territory; Akihiko had put on a thin hooded sweatshirt and I'd equipped myself with large kerchief and a loose long-sleeved shirt. Consequently, we had been relying quite heavily on those pert, cheerful gusts to stay cool. Their sudden absence was noted very acutely, and what had been a week of pleasant walking soon morphed into a sweaty, dusty, miserable march.</p><p>Despite their insistence that children who were shinobi were no longer children, ninjas never quite stopped looking after their kids. We were chuunin, technically, and we were expected to be able to push on through our discomfort like proper soldiers, but the man who was steering the cart next to us saw us, looked upon us pityingly, and invited us to sit with him on the driver's bench.</p><p>I wasted no time in jumping up next to him. Akihiko hesitated—normally, he would have tried sticking it out, if only to be a little more manly—but he was more practical than he was prideful, and a beat later he was sitting down as well.</p><p>"I'm Shouwa," the cart-driver introduced himself, raising a hand in greeting.</p><p>"I'm Akihiko," Akihiko replied and leaned forward so he could peer around me. "This is Suzu," he added.</p><p>Shouwa was an older man with a faintly lined face and salt-and-pepper hair. His hitai-ate was battered and scratched, and though his middle age indicated that he was a career chuunin, there was no doubting that he had seen his fair share of the battlefield. The long, thin scar running across his jawbone indicated that he'd seen his way out of at least one close call.</p><p>"You two with Haneda's group?" he asked us curiously. "I'm shipping out under Morisaki this time, but I heard that he and Haneda like to mix teams on occasion."</p><p>Haneda and Morisaki, if I recalled correctly, were two of the three jounin in charge of the battalions. I had the vague impression that the third was an Aburame.</p><p>"No, we're in Iki's company," Akihiko shook his head. "We're not staying to fight."</p><p>"Oh, I see." Shouwa scratched his head and looked a little surprised. "That's a shame. Too bad, eh? Bet you would've liked the chance to try your hand on the battlefield. My son Kouji—he's probably only a little older than you—has been dying to make himself a name out there. It's all he talks about these days."</p><p>Akihiko and I exchanged glances. Maybe, back when we had been the invincible Team 11 of hopes and dreams and limitless potential, the prospect would have excited us. We, too, had played the games of ninja, after all. We'd spent our childhoods pretending to be famous shinobi, Hokages and clan heads and other legendary war heroes. The quest for glory had been present to us since our earliest days. Now, though, the thought of returning to the front lines made me feel just a little sick.</p><p>"We'll pass," Akihiko spoke for both of us when he put a hand on his neck and looked away. "Names aren't all that great anyway."</p><p>Puzzlement flitted across Shouwa's face. For a moment, he seemed surprised by our lack of enthusiasm. But then he took on a knowing look, and I found myself thinking that he knew exactly what Akihiko meant. He had probably lived it himself. Maybe even multiple times, considering his age. One could lose a lot of friends in the time it took to start growing gray hair.</p><p>"I see," he said. And then he grinned in a determined way, like he didn't want to give the moment over to angsty musings. "You two are a cheerful pair, aren't you? And here I was, hoping that you'd make for better conversation than this grump back here."</p><p>He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the ANBU man. He was still seated upon his throne of crates, as he'd been all week. In a surprise move, though, he let out a sigh and looked down at us.</p><p>"I'm in the middle of a job right now," the shinobi informed exasperatedly in the first words I'd heard him utter since the mission began.</p><p>He was younger than I'd realized. I thought he'd been something like a mid-thirties man, but upon closer examination, he was probably only twenty or so—maybe Itsuki-sensei's age at the very oldest. His voice was not as deep as I thought it would be, either. He was almost like a teenager.</p><p>"We're all in the middle of a job right now," Shouwa retorted. "You can still talk and be combat-ready, you know."</p><p>The ANBU rolled his eyes. Then he put his elbows on his knees, leaned forward, and asked, "What do you want to talk about?"</p><p>He must have been very bored. It takes a certain amount of effort and a very specific set of circumstances to get an ANBU to speak unnecessarily during a mission. I know this for a fact; I've made friends with a good number of them over the years, and even the most sociable will limit nonessential interactions to slight head-tilts and small gestures. It took a whole slew of painkillers and my most humorous story about a squirrel in the daimyo's throne room to get a bodyguard to even sign the word "laugh" at me.</p><p>"Start with your name," Shouwa chided. "Don't you have any manners?"</p><p>The ANBU put his cheek on his fist with a look of disapproval. "Nosy," he said, admonishingly.</p><p>Shouwa cocked an eyebrow.</p><p>"Susumu, then," the ANBU sighed.</p><p>Even though we'd tried to play it cool when we'd first seen him, Akihiko and I both couldn't help but stare at him now. Truth be told, neither of us had ever met an ANBU before. Amongst village children they were something like urban legends. He was almost a mythical creature, and now that he was talking, there was no stopping the rush of questions that followed.</p><p>"Do you have animal summons?" Akihiko blurted with eyes wide.</p><p>The so-called Susumu snorted. "You'll forgive me if I don't disclose that information to you," he said. "Even if we weren't in enemy territory right now, I wouldn't tell you that."</p><p>"But do you know any badass jutsu?" my teammate pressed, undeterred.</p><p>"A few," Susumu allowed as he let out a quiet huff. "But I won't show them to you."</p><p>"Then have you been to Earth Country before?"</p><p>"I have."</p><p>Akihiko's face brightened. "Do you know any doton?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>Shouwa and I exchanged glances as a back-and-forth volley of inquiry and answer began. Susumu gave off an air of perfect nonchalance with his detached, laconic responses, but the mere fact that he was continuing to engage was rather telling.</p><p>"I think he might like him," Shouwa said, sotto voce, with a look of surprise on his face.</p><p>"Maybe he's being nice because it was his birthday," I speculated in reply.</p><p>Susumu and Akihiko, of course, heard this teasing play loud and clear, and stopped speaking long enough to send us identical glares. I ducked my chin and swallowed a giggle; Shouwa held up his hands with a grin.</p><p>The rest of the morning proceeded uneventfully. Much to Akihiko's disappointment, Susumu vanished when we broke for lunch. His mood plummeted abysmally, unhelped by the ever-mounting heat; added to that, we had come up to a large, untraversable canyon, and were now being forced to trek all the way to its edge so we could pass. Morale in general took a bit of a hit at that.</p><p>Before Akihiko could spread his bad mood to the rest of us, though, the mysterious man suddenly reappeared in the afternoon, looking like he'd never left. My friend was restored to good spirits, and with much pestering managed to get him to treat us to a short discourse on the Body Flicker technique. Akihiko and I never got the chance to learn how to shunshin from Itsuki-sensei, so I admit that I was not totally inattentive.</p><p>He had surprising insights into the technique, and several of the tips he detailed in the chakra-molding process appeared to be novel even to Shouwa. Akihiko and I were learning forward intently, focused on his quiet lecture, when our ANBU suddenly stopped mid-sentence.</p><p>"Where?" he asked, and we blinked confusedly until we realized that he was speaking into his mic. Shouwa immediately sharpened to attention.</p><p>"No, there's nothing," Susumu replied, looking to the east. "How many did you see?"</p><p>There were several seconds of silence. Then Susumu stood up on his crate perch, brow creasing, and stared out over the sea of horses, carts, and shinobi rolling across the wasteland around us. The moment stretched until it seemed like nothing else would be said; eventually, though, his eyes narrowed.</p><p>"No, have Shou stay where he is," he said sharply. "If it's bait, I don't want to take it."</p><p>There was a pause as he listened to the reply. Then he said, "No, it won't work. There are too many of us for that. If there's an ambush, I'll break it; stopping everyone here would only make us a better target."</p><p>Alarm shot through all of us at word "ambush." Shouwa opened his mouth to speak, but Susumu held up a hand, silencing him.</p><p>There was a rumble. Our ANBU immediately sank into a ready stance, bending his knees and bringing his arms up, as he readied himself to leap off in any direction. The transformation was a little breathtaking; in a single movement, he sharpened from placid aloofness into raw lethality, one second a curt stranger and the next a naked blade.</p><p>The ground began to shake. The rest of the ninjas around us began to murmur with wary looks on their faces as they slowly drew kunai and put hands on sword hilts. Heads began to turn in search for the source of the noise.</p><p>I shoved some chakra together and listened hard, wondering if I could perhaps hear our enemies approaching. A buzzing symphony of Leaf-nin filled my ears. I did my best to ignore them, searching for any sounds farther out and away from the caravan, but no matter how hard I concentrated, I could hear nothing that I hadn't heard all week.</p><p>My brow furrowed. It could have just been that I wasn't skilled enough to parse out all of the different chakra emissions, but a vague suspicion began to form in my gut. I turned my head and surveyed the landscape. We were right at the edge of the canyon...</p><p>I looked down. What I saw then was the last thing any of us wanted to see: cracks spidering out across the ground below us.</p><p>"The cliff's going to come down," I said, almost blankly, as I turned my head to look at the chasm beside us. It was a perfect spot for a landslide.</p><p>Susumu didn't swear, although nearly everyone else in hearing range did. Instead, he quickly threw out an arm and pointed ahead.</p><p>"Move!" he bellowed. "Now!"</p><p>Shunshins began to pop in my ears at once, filling the air with the sound of chakra pinging and chiming. It was a strangely dissonant melody; I'd never heard so many chakra signatures flare at once in my life. I spent a moment listening fascinatedly. Then I jerked back to reality as the cart we were on lurched forward.</p><p>Several things happened at once. The horses charged forward; shinobi cursed and dodged away before they could be run over; Susumu very nearly fell off his crate tower. The ground beneath us began to come apart. The cracks widened into fissures, and the fissures began to shift.</p><p>"Shit," Shouwa said, and then threw his reins to the side and bailed off the cart. Akihiko and I gaped. Then we really panicked, standing up so we could try and get off the cart ourselves.</p><p>My ears filled with the sound of roaring as the cliff crumbled away.</p><hr/><p>It was over nearly as soon as it had begun. Skidding to a stop atop a mound of dust and dirt and boulders, Susumu immediately dumped me and my teammate on the ground before springing away in soundless shunshin. We barely registered it; instead, we groaned disorientedly and began crawling about on our hands and knees in an attempt to gather our bearings.</p><p>Once we had righted ourselves, we looked up and found that destruction the landslide had caused was stunning. No words other than "total disaster" could describe it. The horses were a little ways off to our left, half-crushed by boulders and horrifically broken-necked. The splintered remains of the cart were sprinkled everywhere, along with all of the supplies, and a stomach-turning number of bodies were scattered about the debris. Some were half-buried in the rocks, writhing in pain. Some were groaning and clutching their arms or legs or sides. Most of them weren't moving at all.</p><p>"Oh my God," I said.</p><p>Akihiko, still on his knees beside me, sat up with a look of blank disbelief. For a moment, all we could do was stare at the carnage. It was the first time either of us had ever witnessed the magnitude of the Third War's violence first-hand. The torture in the Iwa bunker and the killing of Yoshiya had been unquestionably savage—and even now I could still slide away into the memory of that last day, lying for hours in a pool of his blood with his corpse still upon my back—but as terrible as it had been, we had only been a few individuals. This was slaughter on a completely different scale.</p><p>We were still staring in dazed silence when Susumu reappeared, the arm of an unconscious chuunin slung over his shoulder.</p><p>"Get up," he commanded, quietly but forcefully. Blood from the chuunin's leg was smeared all over his side. "There's no time to shell-shocked. Get down there and help the survivors."</p><p>His words were enough to snap us out of our stupor. Scrambling to our feet, Akihiko and I slid down the pile toward the nearest cluster of survivors.</p><p>The death toll at the outset was seventy-three shinobi—roughly a quarter of the reinforcements, not counting those who belonged to Iki's company. We had many injured, though, and it was likely that number would be higher before the day was up. We needed to reunite with the rest of our forces at once.</p><p>Unfortunately, running up the wall of the canyon was impossible. Even if one were to use chakra, there was no way to transport the injured back up. The distance was just too great; we were miles below where we had begun. Not that it mattered, course. I doubted most of us could make that sort of climb anyway. Tree-walking—or in this case, cliff-walking—was a basic skill, but it was not one meant for use across great heights. The muscle strain and the chakra stress was too intensive for anyone but a jounin, or perhaps a high chuunin, to tolerate.</p><p>After everyone both dead and alive had been gathered together in one spot, Susumu spent a few frustrated minutes yelling into his headset in attempt to communicate with his squad. Its designated range of use, however, was small, and the high walls of the canyon were interfering with the signal, so his attempts were mostly futile. I doubted radios on Earth would malfunction over something like this, but it was what it was; the technology of the Narutoverse was just not at that level. In the end, he was forced to break out a hawk summon and trade messages with them the old-fashioned way.</p><p>Something of a plan began to emerge. While the medically knowledgeable among us began to triage and treat the wounded, those who were able-bodied were charged with venturing deeper into the valley to search out a way back up to the surface. Because Captain Haneda was staying with the injured, along with the shinobi who had training in iryou-ninjutsu, Susumu was put in charge of the rest of us.</p><p>The general mood was quite foul. It went without saying that the vast, vast majority of us were feeling positively shitty. It was hot, we were aching, the enemy had just kicked our asses and killed our comrades, and now we were trapped at the bottom of a miles-deep chasm wandering aimlessly in an attempt to find a way out. Who would be anything other than peevish in this situation? Snappish remarks and irritated, under-the-breath insults abounded.</p><p>We were all trudging along in irate silence when I heard something odd ahead of us. It was chakra, definitely, but it was no kind of chakra I'd ever encountered before. Something about it differed from what I heard from my comrades: a different timbre, a different key, something made of foreign intervals and distinctly not-Konoha sounds. There was no mistaking that these signatures did not belong to allies. I tugged on Shouwa's sleeve and mumbled at him.</p><p>There was a bit of a quarrel over whether or not I ought to be trusted. A group of three men demanded to know if I had ever received formal sensory training, and decided that I was just a dipshit who ought to be ignored when they found out I hadn't. A few others became angry on my behalf and defended my status as a natural sensor despite having no previous knowledge of my abilities at all. I began to feel that everyone was stupid, and regretted opening my mouth to say anything at all.</p><p>As we walked farther, though, it became clear that I had spoken the truth: there was a small group of people standing off the distance, milling about in decidedly not-green uniforms. My detractors went quiet, but I was too tetchy and overheated to feel vindicated.</p><p>"I can see them," Shouwa said unnecessarily as he shaded his eyes with his hand. "Just ahead. As she said… enemy shinobi. They must have fallen in the landslide, too."</p><p>"Get ready for a fight, then," someone behind me muttered and gripped a kunai.</p><p>"Did they really get stuck in their own jutsu?" another asked caustically. "Idiots…"</p><p>"You're one to talk. You're down here, too."</p><p>"Stop bickering," Susumu snapped, and the group immediately fell silent. "They've seen us… it looks like they're sending someone forward. Hold your attack for now, but be ready."</p><p>Susumu zipped to the front of the group in a half of a blink of the eye. No one made any move to stop him. Out of all of us, he was probably the most qualified to treat with hostiles; he would be able to react in time if any foul play went on.</p><p>"Greetings, Leaf shinobi," the enemy emissary called when he was several hundred yards away. He was not an Iwa-nin as I had thought, but a Kumo-nin. A Kumo jounin, judging by his clothes. How unexpected. What were Cloud shinobi doing here in the aftermath of a classic Iwagakure landslide?</p><p>Susumu crossed his arms and gave the man the most unimpressed look of utter contempt I had ever seen. I looked at the blood still caked on his side and thought it was appropriate. There probably was no other face to make, not when facing the people who spilled that blood in the first place.</p><p>"Kumo-nin," Susumu said once the jounin had made his over to us, in a voice that cut through bullshit like butter. "Give me one reason not to kill you where you stand."</p><p>The Kumo-nin stared. Then, realizing the pointlessness of his overly polite demeanor, he dropped all pretense and shifted a defensive foot back, ready to leap into combat at a moment's notice.</p><p>"It wouldn't be to your advantage," he said warily, looking as though he desperately wanted to put his hand on his holster and was refraining only through momentous self-control. "If you let me live, we can help each other."</p><p>"Right," Susumu replied flatly. His disbelief was so plain it was almost tangible. "That will definitely happen."</p><p>"It should," the Kumo jounin retorted. "Tell me, do you think you can escape this place without a guide? Do you think you can just wander out? This gorge is one of Tsuchi no Kuni's greatest natural defenses. You'll die down here without our assistance."</p><p>Susumu gave no reaction to the proclamation of impending doom. Sizing his interlocutor up, he asked instead, "What's in it for you? Just escape yourselves and leave us to our fate, then."</p><p>The jounin spread his hands out in a sign of peace before pointing to the heavy packs we were all carrying. Susumu's suspicious gaze seemed to ease a bit with the emergence of a motive, and he made a noise of comprehension.</p><p>"Supplies," he murmured and crossed his arms contemplatively. "I'm assuming you don't have any, then."</p><p>"Nothing beyond our usual field packs, no," the jounin confirmed. "And it won't be nearly enough. Not for a jaunt through Death Valley, anyway."</p><p>I heard a collectively repressed snort surge through the group with surprising synchronism. Death Valley... what an uninspired name.</p><p>"How do you plan to see us out of here, then?" Susumu asked critically. "You're no Iwa-nin. How can we trust that you actually know your way around?"</p><p>In reply, the Cloud shinobi turned slightly and looked back to his group. There was a bit of shuffling; then a trio of short shinobi found their way to the front of the pack. They looked quite small compared to the people around them.</p><p>"Do you see those boys there?" the jounin pointed. "They're a team from Iwa. They know how to get through."</p><p>Susumu went silent. For a long moment, he only stood and stared at the Kumo jounin, eyes sharp and expression unreadable. Then, finally, he said, "Let me confer with my allies."</p><p>The group burst into the chatter the moment he returned to us. Shouwa said something, only to be drowned out by the angry voices of the three men. Several others began speaking, too.</p><p>Susumu held up a hand. "Quiet," he said. "One at a time. Tell me your thoughts."</p><p>"It's a trap," the kunoichi behind me immediately said. "There's no doubt. They don't need us. They'll stab us in the back the moment our guards are down, take our supplies, and run."</p><p>"I agree," another person declared. "We're a disposable factor in this equation. We should refuse."</p><p>"But how will we find our way out otherwise?" a teenaged chuunin objected. "They're right. We can't just stroll around and expect to find an exit."</p><p>"We have hawks scouting, don't we? We'll find it eventually."</p><p>"But do we have time for that?" Shouwa asked. "We have supplies, but they're limited. We don't have everything we need, either, and we have several wounded comrades behind us. Will they last while we wait for the summons to finish searching?"</p><p>Watching the debate in silence, Susumu spent several minutes listening to the group argue before he spoke again. When he did, though, the chatter quickly quieted.</p><p>"All right," he said. "I've come to a decision. We will go with them. However," he glared when he saw several mouths open to protest, "I agree with the assessment that we are disposable to them. They don't need us—they need our stuff, and they will be looking to take us out of the picture. Treachery is inevitable."</p><p>"So what are we going to do, then?"</p><p>"We'll be taking hostages," Susumu replied, unflinching. "We're taking the team from Iwa. It will be a non-negotiable condition."</p><p>A low murmur picked up at that. Dauntless, Susumu paid it no mind and turned back to the Kumo jounin.</p><p>The jounin's expression became flinty when Susumu laid out his terms, and there was a long, tense staring match. The man put on his most intimidating face—and, to be fair, it was not an ineffective one, especially when matched against Susumu's youthful countenance—but our ANBU's sheer force of personality and grade-A glare eventually won out. After a tiny eternity, the Kumo-nin finally surrendered.</p><p>"Fine," he barely refrained from spitting. "We accept. Hayanari and his team will stay with you until we reach the end of the valley. But only until then. They come back to us the moment we're out."</p><p>"And no sooner," Susumu said coolly. "Very well. We will cooperate with you until the conditions of this agreement are fulfilled."</p><p>The jounin merely scowled and turned to stalk away.</p><p>"Beware, Cloud ninja," Susumu said to his back, voice softening dangerously. "The moment you turn your blades on us, escape from this valley will become the least of your concerns. Think carefully before moving in the coming days. We have already lost people to you. Mercy will not be forthcoming."</p><p>The Kumo ninja stopped and looked at him over his shoulder, expression unreadable. He was still for a moment; then he walked away.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Death Valley (2)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Warning: graphic violence.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The technique… needed some work.</p><p>It wasn't the seals. The seals performed beautifully; as I twisted chakra in my palm and carefully envisioned each component and mechanism of it in turn, just as Minato had instructed me, a halo of black ink blossomed on Hayanari's arm just as he was jumping away. A cheerful G-flat chimed at my hip, the familiar sound of my own chakra activating the storage seal, and wire materialized between him and my forearm, where my cousin had carefully inked and concealed the third and final seal. I grasped the mass of steel threads with both hands and yanked as hard as I could. Hayanari's arm jerked back awkwardly, causing him to yelp and drop the kunai in his hand, and he was prevented from stabbing Akihiko in the side.</p><p>This was the part of the technique that worked well. The part that did not work well was the part where Hayanari called for Iwao and Iwao dove down at us from the air, landed on the wires connecting myself and his teammate, and sent us both tumbling into the ground. He quickly cut his teammate loose before taking his kunai and stabbing it into the ground, neatly pinning me down in the process. Ichiei sprinted forward engage Akihiko as I struggled free my arm.</p><p>With assistance from Akihiko cut off, Iwao took the opportunity to dive on me. After fumblingly taking a knife to the wires, I rolled over and just barely managed to get a leg up in time to knee him in the gut. I grimaced as spit flew from Iwao's mouth and onto my face, but also took the opportunity his choking gasp presented to straighten out my leg and go for a shameless nut shot. Iwao went tumbling off me with a groan of agony, and I rolled to my feet and disengaged, dodging back out of range.</p><p>Just as I had reoriented myself, I caught sight of Akihiko putting a decisive heel into Ichiei's face. I paused for a moment to admire my friend's unfailingly flawless taijutsu. His form was clean and straight-lined, positioned as always for perfect balance. His knee bent fluidly as his arms came up, and he posed himself perfectly to flip away or defend if someone tried to unroot him while his foot was in the air. Even though my hand-to-hand was better than my ninjutsu, I reflected, it was still nothing compared to his ability. It wasn't even just a matter of him knowing higher the tiers of Hurricane Gale—though of course he did—because his mastery shone through in his execution of even the most basic maneuvers.</p><p>My moment of appreciation was interrupted as Hayanari, who had also gotten to his feet and reoriented himself, charged at me with a yell. I quickly ducked under a swipe of his tantou and cuffed him in the back of the knee. His foundation crumpled, but as he was going down he reached out, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and dragged me with him.</p><p>There was a moment of heart-stopping, sightless panic as I remembered Hatsuta's fingers on my scalp—saw his arm, felt his nails <em>in my</em> <em>hair</em>—before I wrenched my head free and smashed my fist into Hayanari's nose. He responded with an open-palmed strike to the chin, and we began rolling in the dirt, yanking at each other's shirt collars and trying to pull off elbow strikes between all the grabbing and kicking.</p><p>"Hayanari, their allies are coming!" Iwao suddenly yelled. "I think the diversion failed!"</p><p>Hayanari cursed and doubled down with renewed urgency. Suddenly I found our positions flipped, and then he was bearing down on me with his dagger, using his superior leverage drive through my block. I braced my arms against the onslaught, but was unable to force him back enough to lock them effectively. The blade of his tantou glanced off my forehead protector and sliced across my cheekbone, right below the eye. Hayanari went in for the finishing blow.</p><p>Then he stopped. I gasped and was subsequently open-mouthed when the gush of blood sprayed me in the face. Akihiko, blue eyes narrowed to a sharpened point, put the heel of his palm under his kunai's handle and shoved Hayanari off me with a grunt of exertion. Blood went spurting up into the air in a gory parody of a fountain.</p><p>I immediately rolled over and spat until my mouth was empty and dry. Then I wiped a hand across my eyes and thought, dumbly, about what blood-borne diseases might be widespread in Earth Country.</p><p>"Thanks," I said breathlessly as Akihiko grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet, panting. He nodded, and we took a moment to stare at each other in winded silence; then we looked at Hayanari, who was lying on his side with a look of shock. Slowly, he lifted a hand to touch the hilt of the knife stuck in his neck.</p><p>"Hayanari!" The silence was broken when twin screams ripped from the throats of Ichiei and Iwao. They scrambled to their feet, Ichiei with his hands on his nose and Iwao with an uncomfortable hop in his gait. Akihiko and I leaped back in synchronization as they flew by, but they ignored us and went to their knees at their teammate's side.</p><p>"Hayanari!" Iwao gasped in terror, grabbing the boy's shoulders and pulling him into a sitting position. "Oh... oh. Oh my God."</p><p>"Wait! Stop!" Ichiei garbled through his hands. "There's neck damage! Don't move him!"</p><p>Hayanari lowered his arm and let out a little cough, blood bubbling up over his lip. Panicking, his teammates hovered over him, pulling on each other and babbling frightenedly and looking at his wound but not daring to touch the fatal blade still lodged within it. Unsure of what to do, Akihiko and I watched, mute and still, as they floundered.</p><p>Incognizant of all this, Hayanari's wandering eyes, which had been roaming the skyline confusedly, eventually found their way to us. His gaze seemed to focus, just for a moment, and Akihiko tensed up fantastically. But before either of them could say anything Hayanari's sight glazed over and his head fell slack against Iwao's chest.</p><p>Ichiei and Iwao ceased in their frenzy and fell silent. For a long moment they knelt in the dust and stared at him, seeming not to comprehend. But then, eventually, they turned their heads.</p><p>"You…" Iwao uttered at us. He stood; support removed, Hayanari's body thudded lifelessly onto the ground.</p><p>"What?" Akihiko's response was hard, monosyllabic, and contained just the faintest echo of horror. His feet shifted and his fingers twitched towards his holster as if to draw a new kunai. I found myself taking a step back.</p><p>Ichiei rose then, too, dropping his arms to reveal a bloody and most certainly broken nose. The air between us, silent and empty, slowly filled with the sounds of our comrades in distant battle. Muffled shouts and metallic clangs began to ring in our ears, growing ever-closer.</p><p>As one Iwao and Ichiei pulled in their elbows and yelled. Charging forward with inarticulate rage, kunai were drawn and bodies were braced for renewed battle. Biting my lip, I slid a foot back and brought up my arm, considering how to counter the next attack.</p><p>But the next attack never came. Before they had even really entered striking range a pair of kunai went sailing over our heads and struck our adversaries in an eye each, killing them instantly. Akihiko and I spun around so fast it was a wonder we didn't give ourselves whiplash.</p><p>Susumu was standing on a boulder behind us. He was even more blood-spattered than he had been when we'd last seen him. As he lowered his arm and regarded the twitching bodies now appended to what was already an assuredly long list of kills, his lips twisted into a severe frown.</p><p>"They ought to have known better than to be blinded by anger if they were made into chuunin at that age," he said as he eyed them critically.</p><p>Akihiko and I could only stare at him in dumbstruck silence, unable to reply. I could tell by the look on my friend's face that neither of us had sensed his presence. And that—even though we knew he was our ally—was an incredibly uncomfortable realization. He had had a prime view of our unguarded, unseeing backsides, and if he had been of the mind to aim those kunai just a little lower, we would have been dead before we'd known it.</p><p>Susumu, though, took our silence with a different meaning and looked sidelong at us. "I'm sorry to have interfered in your fight," he said with enough sincerity for me realize with twisted fascination that he might have truly meant it—that he was truly sorry he hadn't given us the chance to finish them off ourselves. "But we don't have a lot of time. We need to rejoin the others before we get flanked. We're easy pickings as we are now."</p><p>Akihiko struggled to find his voice. "I—We—" he stammered, glancing back to the bodies, looking up at Susumu, and then glancing back again. "That's… that's okay," he finished weakly, finally returning his eyes to Susumu in all his bloody glory.</p><p>If I was worried over a bit of gore in my mouth, I had no idea what magnitude of concern would be appropriate for the state Susumu was in. He was positively drenched. I couldn't even imagine what sort of violence had transpired around him today. The only thing that could be certain was that it had been a literal bloodbath.</p><p>Either oblivious to or unaffected by our disgusted mesmerization, Susumu just turned and jerked his chin over his shoulder. The command to follow was clear. He sprang away without a single glance back; we were left to stand over the extinguished remains of the team from Iwagakure in silence, breathing heavy and shoulders still tight with interrupted anticipation.</p><hr/><p>The battle ended in a rout for the enemy shinobi. Their tactic, to seize the supplies and rescue their guides, had been to stage a backstabbing operation right before dawn. In theory, it had been a good plan; we were a much smaller force than them, so all they had needed to do overwhelm us to was position themselves well and attack from both sides.</p><p>Matters did not quite pan out as they had planned. Though it was clear that they had had a clever tactician among them—someone experienced in crafting military strategy who might have even been a tactical officer—this particular squad of ANBU was exceptional, in both skill and determination. Oh, the Cloud shinobi had done as much as they could have—they had clearly put two and two together regarding our plainclothes agent, and special action had been taken specifically to separate Susumu from the rest of the group—but he was Special Operations and he had training and experience above and beyond that of even well-seasoned strategists. No one could have anticipated the sheer level of hypercompetence he and his team would bring to the field.</p><p>It was years and years later that I learned the man who called himself Susumu was a lieutenant of the First Division; that is, he was a captain handpicked by First Division head, who was the ANBU Commander himself. With that in consideration, perhaps it was not unexpected that their countermeasures had decimated the Cloud shinobi so completely. ANBU was the spearhead of the Special Forces and they had been crafted specifically to neutralize threats exactly like these in exactly these sorts of circumstances. Alone in a foreign country against incredible numeric odds was precisely the sort of situation in which they thrived. The village must have been expecting they might be needed to diffuse a disaster situation such as this one.</p><p>"All right, all of you. I'm going to explain our plan of action," Susumu said lowly, faced away from the prying eyes and ears of the Cloud shinobi encamped nearby. All around us the rest of the company was nonchalantly listening in, pretending to be engaged in cleaning their weapons, having conversations, or other activities. Susumu's hawk was silently circling overhead.</p><p>"Confirmation just came in from the rest of my squad: the enemy has allies on the outside. I suspected as much; it seemed unlikely that three young chuunin would be assigned to guide a contingent of Cloud shinobi through a hot zone like this one. In reality, the group you see here is actually only a small portion of a larger force under the command of one of Kumo's most high-profile ninjas, the son of the Third Raikage himself: A the Unruly."</p><p>There was a lull in the manufactured murmurs. Several people paused to look at Susumu over their shoulders.</p><p>Susumu continued. "The likely scenario is that the team from Iwa had been assigned to collapse part of the cliff in the initial attack, but failed to control their jutsu perfectly and ended up sweeping themselves, along with the men you see here, down to the valley floor. Now, this is lucky. When my team scouted ahead they found that A's group has moved on. The shinobi you see here have been left for dead—or, at the very least, are expected to escape and catch up on their own. But while this is good in that it means we only have them to deal with, it's bad in that it indicates that A and his men are in a hurry, which can only mean that a renewed attack is imminent. Consequently, our mission has become that much more crucial. We must escape from here as quickly as possible, with as many supplies and as much manpower as possible."</p><p>Susumu went on to detail the likelihood of a nighttime sneak attack and what we were going to do about it. An agenda formed of blisteringly efficient resource management was laid out: he split our party into two groups, assigned them targets—specifically those who had comported themselves in leadership roles, one such being the Kumo jounin who had negotiated the truce with us—and instructed them to act as a strike team to confuse the enemy's chain of command. While our attackers were regrouping, he would use a flock of his animal summons to help our limited number of fighters harass and delay their organization. While this was going on, two of his squad mates would take the run down the cliffs to assist us, and with their arrival the battle would be won.</p><p>The execution was more flawless than could be believed. Even with the minor complication of being ambushed by a gank squad made up of no less than five jounin, Susumu was not prevented from escaping his attackers, rescuing Akihiko and me, joining up with his team, and crushing the remaining Cloud shinobi as thoroughly as an emptied aluminum can. Two brown-haired shinobi, one male and one female, dropped in on us from above, unleashed a cataclysmic amount of ninjutsu, teamed up with their squad leader to finish off the stragglers, and then returned to the main group in one sweeping display of utter destruction.</p><p>That was how the battle in Death Valley came to an end. It would be the last time I fought with Akihiko at my side for a long time.</p><hr/><p>When I saw him pensively sitting by the fire, mechanically wiping a cloth over his kunai, the need to apologize overwhelmed me. Quietly, I creeped up beside him and sat down. His faraway gaze did not so much as flicker toward me.</p><p>"Akihiko, I… I'm sorry."</p><p>Akihiko returned to the world with a startled blink and regarded me quizzically. "Sorry for what?"</p><p>"For… for the fight earlier," I mumbled as I stared down at my toes. They were dusty, and there was dirt under my nails. "For letting—letting Hayanari get me. Because… you had to…"</p><p>A strange look began to form in his eye. "Had to what?" he asked slowly.</p><p>"You know," I said, shrinking. "You had to… kill him."</p><p>I understood my mistake the moment the words left my lips. As Akihiko's face hollowed into a perfect picture of dread, it occurred to me that he had not wanted to talk about it—that he had been trying not to face the reality of the matter before he had collected and prepared himself, and that I had sabotaged any attempt to go into the matter with a clear and steady step. I slowly brought a hand up to cover my mouth, but no matter how hard I wished for it in that moment there was no way to take it back.</p><p>For a moment he was utterly empty. He was so blank with unprocessed emotion that it seemed as though he might not move again for days. And then, after a nearly half a minute of that void stare, walls slammed up around his gaze so abruptly that I thought my head might spin.</p><p>"Why are you apologizing?" he asked coldly as he began polishing his kunai again. "It's not a big deal for a ninja to kill someone. I just did what I had to do. Or did you think I hadn't had it in me?"</p><p>"That's not what I meant," I said smally, fully feeling that I deserved to wilt under his gaze. "I didn't mean that at all. I… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up. I just wanted to apologize for making you…"</p><p>"Well, don't," he snapped. "I don't need your pity. Maybe you would if you had killed someone, but I'm a shinobi. I can handle it."</p><p>My guilty thoughts stilled. The shinobi milling about glanced over their shoulders at us.</p><p>"Is that all you wanted to say?" Akihiko demanded as if sensing their attention. "If that's it, I'm busy right now."</p><p>A beat passed. Then, not knowing what else to do, I stood. A flash of stinging regret zipped across Akihiko's face, but he quickly looked away, and he did not raise his head again until I had departed from his company.</p><hr/><p>My wanderings brought me to the opposite canyon wall where the confrontation had taken place. Bodies were being stacked sky-high for the pyre. Even hours after the fight had ended the dead were still being collected and dragged together. Perhaps it was taking so long because our manpower had lessened; a good chunk of people had gone to retrieve Haneda and his group, and another chunk had died in the altercation. Those shinobi, of course, were not going into the pyre; they were already properly sealed into scrolls and packed away for transport back to the village.</p><p>The adults were much too busy to pay any mind to a little girl running underfoot so no one bothered with me when I arrived at the field of dead Cloud shinobi and began walking through their prone ranks. I did not quite know what I was looking for amongst the sea of stiff, gray faces until I found it, but eventually—after scanning over countless burnt, bled-out bodies—my eyes alighted on a trio of boys in uniforms that differed from all the others'.</p><p>The boys from Iwagakure.</p><p>I remember them very well even today. Hayanari Yamaguchi, Ichiei Arisato, and Iwao Yamasa: those had been their names. We had talked to them a bit before the fight had begun. Hayanari had been twelve and the oldest, with chestnut-colored hair, gray eyes, and a wide mouth. Ichiei and Iwao had been the same age as us, ten, and cousins as well, with similar faces and matching almond eyes. None of them had been members of clans, but that probably wasn't unexpected. Konoha has always been considered exceptional in the diversity of clans it is home to.</p><p>Like us, they had been chuunin. They had been a semi-new team formed from the previous year's batch of genin. Like us, their sensei has been nowhere in sight. Like us, they had been surviving the unending war. They had been like us right up until the moment they met us.</p><p>I put a hand on my cheek and looked at them. Then I squatted down and stared into Hayanari's face, trying to imagine what sort of thoughts had gone through Iwao's head when this same sight had met his eyes. Someone had removed the kunai already—there was no need to waste a good weapon—but the blood that had sprayed out from the wound was dried up all over his chin and cheek.</p><p>It was a morbidly fascinating sight. It was my first time seeing such young person's corpse so close up; I hadn't had the courage to look this closely at Yoshiya's face after he'd died. I never imagined how empty the eyes would be. And they really were empty—empty of shock, of sadness, of anger, and of everything. There was only an unfillable void. They were not eyes so much as they were an expiring collection of cells and tissues that had become unable to transmit light to a functioning brain, soon to disintegrate and cease to be at all.</p><p>Had Hayanari been feeling any of those emotions before death had slackened his face? I replayed the moment we had met gazes with him in my head. Had he been shocked and hurt by our betrayal? Or had he perhaps expected it? Perhaps he had even planned to betray us first and had only been putting up a front from the start, biding his time with pleasant chatter until he found the moment to strike. Was everything our seniors had said true after all? Would they really have killed us and run at the first opportunity?</p><p>"If we'd given you a chance, would you have left in peace?" I asked the corpse.</p><p>In my head, a string of logic answered me: No. Even if he'd actually liked us—and there was no way to know if he truly had—he would have been under orders from his superiors. If he'd disobeyed those orders and tried to spare us, or help us, he would have put both himself and his team at risk. Why would anyone do that? Why would anyone risk oneself and one's team for the enemy? His actions were proof enough. If Akihiko hadn't stepped in, I would be the one lying the ground where he was now. Even if our side had been the aggressors there was no way he would have left us alone once the fight had begun. Their deaths had been sealed the moment they'd fallen into the valley. Their allies had abandoned them in hostile territory; that alone would have been cause enough for their perishing. In fact, if not for us and our supplies, they would have died even sooner. Both parties had known from the beginning that our little ceasefire had been no more than a farce. This was just the same as if we had met on the battlefield in open combat. It had been inevitable. They were ninja; they had known what they had been getting into...</p><p>Hayanari's frozen, unreplying visage continued to stare blankly into the darkening sky. I wondered if this sort of logic did not rest at the heart of all cruelty.</p><hr/><p>"There you are. Come here."</p><p>Susumu stopped me just as I was returning to the camp. I blinked and actually froze where I was standing, so surprised was I to have him speak to me. After all, Akihiko had been the sole object of his interest since the beginning; he had never paid much attention to me.</p><p>"Um… yes?" I asked more than said when I had stirred myself enough to move to him. Susumu looked me up and down, crossed his arms, and then nodded to himself.</p><p>"All right," he said. "Before anything else, I want to ask that you, regardless of whatever answer you give me, keep this conversation and its contents to yourself. Will you do that?"</p><p>"I… I suppose if you need me to," I replied, bewildered. Before anything else? Before what?</p><p>Susumu cracked the slightest of smiles at my perplexion. Aside from expressions of irritation, of which there had been plenty, it was perhaps the most emotive face I'd had the pleasure of seeing him make. Naturally, it smoothened into businesslike professionalism before long. "With the promise of your secrecy, I would like to inform you that I have been operating and will be continuing to operate under cover for the duration of this mission. I am a shinobi of Konoha's Special Forces, and I am currently captaining the ANBU squad assigned to supervise this mission. Please do not disclose this information to any uninformed parties." Susumu took a breath. Then he looked me dead in the eye. "I would like to extend to you the opportunity for a provisional apprenticeship in the Special Forces under the guidance of an ANBU mentor. Do you hold any interest in such an opportunity?"</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. A Single Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What?" I asked, dumbfounded.</p><p>A hint of amusement seeped into Susumu's eyes. "An apprenticeship," he repeated. "A one-on-one teaching relationship with an established ANBU operative. Upon its completion, you would be offered the chance to officially join ANBU as an independent member. Do you hold interest in such an opportunity?"</p><p>For several seconds all words escaped me. An apprenticeship? An apprenticeship in ANBU? Did such a thing even exist?</p><p>"The initiative has been in place for the last few years of the war. We have had some success in bolstering ANBU's numbers in this way," Susumu replied without even a hint of jest. "As you must be aware, Konoha is experiencing a severe shortage of manpower. This is true in ANBU as well. You and your teammate are of the right age and background to be ideal candidates."</p><p>"Me?" I asked warily. "Not just Akihiko?"</p><p>"He is very advanced," Susumu acknowledged. "And he is the reason I spared enough of my attention to observe you in the first place. However, I maintain that you are also an investment potentially worth undertaking. If you decide to pursue an apprenticeship there will be ample time to prepare you for a career in ANBU. We do not officially recruit those under the age of thirteen. You would have at the very least three years to bring yourself to the threshold of skill we are looking for in recruits. The likelihood of being separated from him is minimal."</p><p>I continued to regard him warily. Susumu tilted his head at me.</p><p>"You two possess excellent teamwork," he informed. "That was the most notable observation I made while monitoring you. It was also the most influential in my decision to extend this offer to you. If I can I would like to have you both join us. It would be a waste to split you up otherwise. The standard of coordination required to run a successful squad in ANBU is quite high. Judging by your current level of synchronization you two are likely to meet that standard. I am confident that my colleagues would agree in my assessment and that great effort would be made not to separate you two."</p><p>"You were watching the fight," I said slowly. Dark suspicion fluttered in my gut. "Not just the end. You were there from the beginning."</p><p>"I was," Susumu confirmed. "It was a shame I had to step in but from what I saw I believe you would have been able to defeat the other two before long. It bodes well for the both of you as future ANBU—we often have to operate outnumbered. If this was your first proper skirmish, I look forward to seeing your growth under proper guidance. You two have come quite far without a sensei."</p><p>His praise fell on deaf ears. I looked up into his dark, unwavering eyes and found not a trace of regret or apology. He had been there—he had seen Akihiko's first kill—and had felt nothing about it. It probably hadn't even occurred to him, I realized, to try and stop it.</p><p>For a moment, I stepped out of my skin and pictured it in my head. I would wear the armor and use a hidden headset and speak in the secret sign language unknown to the General Forces. Akihiko and I would run assassinations in the darkness of the night, flitting in and out of existence with soundless shunshins, and never speak a word. We would have masks. No one would ever know us. Our eyes would look just like this man's, devoid of everything but cold, detached determination.</p><p>"I couldn't," I said distantly as I watched that soundless, grayscale future roll on in my mind's eye. "No… I could never."</p><p>Susumu regarded me impartially. "There is time," he told me, again.</p><p>"It wouldn't be enough," I replied. "Not to become like you."</p><p>He must have understood my meaning because after a moment he nodded in acceptance. "I understand," he murmured and uncrossed his arms. "This life is not for everyone. Being a shinobi is also being aware of one's own nature…" A beat passed as he eyed me without speaking. Then he said, "Then it's no matter. I suspect you will be of use to Konoha wherever you are. You'll do just as well in the General Forces as you would have with us."</p><p>I lowered my eyes and mumbled a thank you. I thought he might leave then but was surprised to have a gloved hand enter my field of vision.</p><p>"Thank for your time," he said firmly. "If you ever come to a place where you think you could join us don't hesitate to initiate contact. Ask at the Academy about Special Forces training. I'll leave your name with them; they'll know who you are."</p><p>"I… all right." I took his hand and shook it. It was a firm handshake, but not overly so. "Thank you..."</p><p>Susumu nodded. And then, like a wisp of flame extinguished by an exhale yawned in the night, his muted presence flickered away into darkness.</p><hr/><p>Akihiko and I did not speak again until after we had returned to the village. He took the journey back in a different section of the caravan, leaving me to pensively reflect on the mission and all that had happened on it alone. Throughout the whole trip Susumu was nowhere to be seen at all.</p><p>I was fine with that state of affairs. He no longer had any business with me. And as for Akihiko, I wouldn't begrudge him a little time and space if it helped him settle himself. I knew by now that he never meant it when he lashed out. He was not a mean person. He was just the sort who would rather be angry than vulnerable.</p><p>It was very dark by the time we arrived at the gates. It was even darker still by the time we had registered our reentries, reported to the company commander, and attended the requisite debriefing. Akihiko and I agreed to adjust our team status from active to standby; after this amazing disaster neither of us could see taking another mission without a week's rest at the very least. Then, after we had split ways and everyone had dispersed, I took a quick look around the crowded, lantern-lit street. No one from the House was waiting for me.</p><p>That was not entirely unexpected. By my estimation it was about one in the morning; anyone who had been waiting would have surely returned home by now. The mission itinerary had flown out the window weeks ago so my family would have had no reason to expect the date or time of our return. Satisfied that I would not unintentionally pass anyone by, I turned toward home.</p><p>Konoha at night was nothing like the cities of Earth at night. It was blacker here than it was there; without the omnipresence of LED lights piercing through the darkness, the night was thicker and more expansive. Rather than the distant whistling of the wind against cars and building corners, the air was filled with the sounds of crickets and cicadas—and frogs, too, because it had rained lately. It was still and solid here. No trains shook the sidewalk; no distant stereos vibrated the air with pulsing bass lines.</p><p>I took my time as I looked around in wondering silence. Some evenings were sweaty, or chilly, or creepy, or uninteresting, but this one was a rare kind of serene. Some folk were out and about, eating late dinners or drinking with friends, but by and large it was quiet. The village was the same as it was yesterday, and as it would be tomorrow, too.</p><p>This great weight of normalcy made me feel smaller than tall mountains and high canyon walls ever could. Emotional arguments and treacherous alliances and first kills were nothing in the face of such immense mundanity. Whether or not we were being swept away by the war, dying and bloodying ourselves on each others' blades, night would come as always. Darkness would still dim our sights, insects would still sing, and people would still go about drinking, eating, and sleeping. The nighttime didn't know anything about our failures or struggles. Perhaps it never would.</p><hr/><p>I was being shaken awake by my aunt mere hours after returning. Aching-backed and sore-calved, I blearily opened my eyes and gazed upon her with exhausted incredulity. What in the world could this woman want from me at four-fifteen on a post-mission morning? Was someone sick? Had I been summoned?</p><p>"Akihiko-kun is downstairs," she whispered to me over the rhythm of my roommates' syncopated breathing. For a moment I just stared. But she did not lie: a quiet sonata was playing downstairs. Its prominent feature was a phrase that resolved on a major seventh chord.</p><p>Drawing myself upwards with Herculean strength, I threw my blanket down on my pillow and shuffled across my foster sisters' futons until I made it to the door. Auntie Reiko wiped her hands on her apron and followed me down the stairs but returned to the kitchen when I went for the door. Holding in a sigh, I reached out and slid it open.</p><p>"You're not even dressed!" Akihiko exclaimed upon seeing me in a yellow duck-printed housedress.</p><p>"Of course not," I mumbled tiredly and leaned on the doorframe. "I was in bed."</p><p>Despite the early hour he was fresh-faced and had all his kit. How that came to be when we had returned and adjusted our duty status less than four hours ago was beyond me.</p><p>"Hurry and change!" he said in horror. He took me by the shoulders and forcibly turned me around, presumably to push me back inside. "We're supposed to report at five! We'll be late!"</p><p>Report? What in the world for? The Missions Desk wasn't even open at this hour. Peons from the General Forces like us didn't report to anyone this early in the morning.</p><p>"What," I exhaled through my nose, "are you talking about?"</p><p>"Didn't Susumu tell you?" my friend hissed and dropped his voice. "The Tower at 5 AM sharp! We need to be registered before we can go inside the ANBU Base!"</p><p>It took my sleep-addled brain a half a moment longer than usual to process, but it was still only a second or two before I comprehended just what exactly was going on. The situation, I realized, was something like this: Akihiko had accepted Susumu's offer. Susumu had instructed him to report to the Hokage Tower and warned him not to be late. Akihiko, accordingly, had risen at this ungodly hour and had come to fetch me as he often did before assignments. He wanted to walk together, as was our custom.</p><p>Conclusion: Akihiko didn't know that I had refused the apprenticeship. I processed the significance of this.</p><p>"Suzu?" Akihiko asked as I found myself becoming quite still. All at once I realized that this was finally the end. If Akihiko was going away I would be the only one left. This was it for our ill-fated team.</p><p>I exhaled.</p><p>"He didn't tell me," I said.</p><p>"What?" Akihiko's reaction was one of puzzlement. "That's... really weird. He couldn't have been counting on me to tell you, could he?"</p><p>"No, I don't think so." I shook my head and turned back around to face him. "It's probably because I didn't accept the offer."</p><p>Akihiko blinked and a beat passed. Then his jaw dropped.</p><p>"You… told him no?"</p><p>"I told him no," I confirmed. "I can't go with you to the Tower."</p><p>Akihiko stared at me. I stared back, unsure of what else to say. Maybe a minute passed like that there on the doorstep at four in the morning, with him in his gear and me in my nightclothes.</p><p>"Why?" Akihiko asked.</p><p>"I didn't want to do it," I admitted. "I wouldn't be happy there."</p><p>"How do you know that?" my teammate demanded. His fingers curled into fists. "How would you know if you would be happy there or not?"</p><p>"Because I know," I said and pulled back a bit with a frown. "...I don't have to be in the Special Forces myself to know that wouldn't do well in there. I'm not enough of a fighter for it."</p><p>"You're fine at fighting!" Akihiko contradicted heatedly. "Your taijustu was the best in the class after mine. Just because Hayanari got you on the ground doesn't mean you're bad at it. We were working together, and we would have gotten them in the end, anyway—Susumu said so."</p><p>His vehement faith in my abilities was endearing despite his anger. Well, maybe he was right. Perhaps we would have defeated the boys from Iwagakure even if we hadn't had help. But what did that mean? Did it make me a good fighter if I could beat some boys in a team brawl? Was I a good fighter if I could stand head and shoulders over students whose instructors hadn't bothered to teach them a thing? I could punch, kick, and stab with competency, it was true. With work perhaps I really could become someone capable running with the ANBU elite. But did that make me a fighter?</p><p>"Being proficient in combat doesn't mean you're a good fighter," I finally said. I crossed my arms and looked away as the image of Hayanari's gray face drifted across the still-dark sky. "Some people think too much to be good fighters."</p><p>"'Think too much'? What is that supposed to mean?" Akihiko's fingers were curled into white-knuckled fists. "Are you saying that I don't think stuff through or something?"</p><p>"No, of course not," I replied irritably as I rubbed a hand across my eyes. They were heavy and stinging with dryness. "Don't put words in my mouth. I'm saying I don't have the right temperament for ANBU work. It's too violent, and I would be too emotionally involved to dissociate myself enough to function efficiently."</p><p>"So what does that make me? Cold-hearted? Violence-loving?" Akihiko laughed. It was an angry, high, nervous kind of laugh, one that I should have marked. The cause of his anxiety would have been blatant if I'd bothered to look. What person wouldn't be scared of being viewed as a bloodthirsty by his friend? "As if you would be doing anything different here in the General Forces! Do you think you're so different from me because you've never killed anyone?"</p><p>"Having killed someone has nothing to do with it," I snapped back. "Stop trying to making this all about you. I'm not saying this imply there's something wrong with you or ANBU. I'm just trying to explain to you why I felt the need to refuse the apprenticeship."</p><p>"Is that what you think? That I'm trying to make this all about me? Do you think I'm that selfish?"</p><p>"Well, you're certainly acting like it," I retorted. "You keep taking insult to everything I say."</p><p>"If I'm being selfish, you're just the same as I am," he accused. "Aren't we a team? Aren't we supposed to stick together? Or are you just going to walk away and ignore me like you did the whole trip back?"</p><p>I gave him an incredulous look. "Ignore you?" I repeated. "Is giving you space so you won't yell at me ignoring you? You were the one who was avoiding me. If you were waiting for me to come and find you, that was dumb."</p><p>A look of hurt flickered across Akihiko's face. I blinked, taken aback. He had been waiting? Truly? I hadn't even considered the possibility of it. I thought he wouldn't have wanted me to see him in his moment of weakness. If he needed someone to talk to I had assumed that he would have wanted to do it on his terms, and that he would approach me when he was ready. After all, what had happened when I had gone up to him myself? I'd spooked him and he'd sent me away.</p><p>But if he had reached his limit in the wake of that battle and had decided that he wanted help even if it meant showing himself in a vulnerable state, maybe it was possible. Maybe he really had needed me. He was more practical than he was prideful, after all…</p><p>"Akihiko…" I began softly, at once regretting my words. I took a step forward.</p><p>But the look of hurt was already being overpowered by a burst betrayed anger. "Shut up," he snarled, mortified, and shoved me back. I stumbled over a stray sandal and landed on my behind.</p><p>"Maybe this team's better off done anyway!" he shouted into the house, effectively alerting everyone inside that an argument was under way. "I can get along fine without you!"</p><p>In a flash I was on my feet and blocking the doorway as best as I was able. "Then what are you doing here?" I hissed, fighting back dread as a familiar chakra signature stirred and began making its way down the stairs. "If you're fine without me why are you so upset I'm not coming with you? That's obviously not true!"</p><p>Akihiko's hand shot out and fisted itself in my collar. I grabbed his vest in response. And then we were standing nose to nose and glowering furiously.</p><p>"You never cared about this team," Akihiko spat. "I can see that now. Yoshiya died for nothing. Or did he even have a choice?"</p><p>The was a beat. Then my palm was flying across his cheek before I even realized I had raised a hand.</p><p>"I <em>never</em> asked Yoshiya to die for me," I said shrilly. "Take it back. Take it back <em>now</em>."</p><p>Retaliation came in the form of a form-three Hurricane Gale strike to the face. My head cracked back into the doorframe and for a moment I saw stars. Before I could fall over, though, a hand grasped my arm and pulled me upright. The low thunder of a grand carillon's bourdon bell crashed through the air, tuned to a booming G natural.</p><p>"What," Uncle Souhei's quiet voice queried, "is going on here?"</p><p>"You're the reason everything is the way it is now!" Akihiko went on yelling, heedless of the danger. "Sensei would still be here! Yoshiya would still be here! You should have died there instead!"</p><p>In a single moment those words brought me to tears. Holding one hand over my nose and clinging to Uncle's shirt with the other, my anger and exhaustion and irritation dissolved into strangled sobs.</p><p>"Shut up," I choked. "You weren't there. You don't know anything. It wasn't my fault."</p><p>Uncle Souhei's grip on my arm was neither tight nor loose; it did not change at all. The air, though, did. Akihiko's back went ramrod straight as my uncle fixed his eyes upon him. Without glasses to obscure his gaze the sharpness of his stare seemed to intensify tenfold.</p><p>"You seem to be a bit worked up right now, Akihiko-kun," the House patriarch said. Despite the mildness of his words my teammate's face began to pale. "Perhaps you ought to take a run to clear your head."</p><p>"I…" Akihiko swallowed and was rooted to the spot. He didn't look even remotely capable of operating his legs. Uncle Souhei's eyebrows lifted.</p><p>"Go now," he suggested softly. "Run."</p><p>As though breaking free of lead shackles Akihiko suddenly found himself able to move. In half a heartbeat's time he was turned away and sprinting down the road like his life depended on it. Maybe it did. I could recognize Uncle Souhei's dangerous voice through even the most violent of crying fits.</p><p>Uncle let out a sigh. "Let me see it," he said briskly as he crouched down to my height. I caught sight of Auntie standing at the end of the hall, hands twisted in her apron.</p><p>"Calm down," Uncle Souhei admonished as I continued to clutch my nose and bawl. Gently, he pried my fingers away from my face. "Ah… just as I thought. He broke it."</p><p>"It wasn't my fault," I wept at him in reply. Whether in reference to the fight or to the bunker I wasn't sure, but Uncle just ran his fingers through my hair and lifted a green-glowing hand toward my blood-covered nose.</p><p>"I know, sweetheart," he murmured. "It wasn't your fault. I know."</p><hr/><p>Upon arriving at the Academy a week later I stopped just before stepping over the threshold and wondered where I was supposed to go to make my request. The Missions Office was probably not the destination I had in mind, though I had almost headed straight there out of habit. I had no business in the classrooms and I doubted anyone of significance was stationed at the playground, but where did that leave? In truth, I hadn't spent much time anywhere else in my days at the Academy.</p><p>Eventually I just decided to go to the Faculty Office and ask one of the teachers to point me in the right direction. I had only been there once, when we'd had a meeting with my guardians about whether or not I would be advanced a grade or not, but somehow I found it remembered the route quite clearly. In fact, now that I was standing in the halls and breathing the same air again, I found that I could remember a lot of things about my Academy days. Despite the passage of time and all that had happened since then it felt strange to walk alone here. I had never walked alone in those days.</p><p>"Excuse me," I said after knocking two times and bowing with the proper etiquette. "Is Erina-sensei available?"</p><p>To be honest I was just naming a familiar name, but at one of the far desks a head of brown hair rose.</p><p>"Oh my," she exclaimed upon catching sight of me. "There's a face you don't see every day. Come in, Namikaze!"</p><p>I bowed again before shutting the door and making my way over to her. Erina-sensei leaned back in her chair and smiled curiously at me.</p><p>"It's been quite a while, hasn't it? What brings you here?" she inquired.</p><p>"I just have a quick question for you, Sensei." I smiled back a bit fondly. Out of all the classes I took at the Academy hers really had been the one I'd enjoyed best. "I came here today to apply for an apprenticeship, but I didn't know who to speak to. Might you be able to point me in the right direction?"</p><p>One of instructors sitting nearby looked up rather sharply but Erina-sensei didn't seem to notice.</p><p>"Oh?" she asked. "An apprenticeship?"</p><p>"My team has dissolved," I murmured by way of explanation. Erina-sensei's face immediately morphed into an expression of pity.</p><p>"I see. My condolences," she offered, and most sincerely. She didn't ask if they had died or not but perhaps she didn't need to. Perhaps the fact that we were dissolved was cause enough for sympathy.</p><p>"Thank you," I sighed.</p><p>"What sort of apprenticeship are you considering?" Erina-sensei continued, knowing better than to dwell. The instructor two desks away continued to eye us silently. I was brave enough to cast a sidelong glance at him, but besides inclining his head a bit in acknowledgement he did nothing more than continue to stare. I turned my attention back to Erina-sensei.</p><p>"Well," I began, twisting my fingers together, "I was hoping to apply for something in your field. The General Forces' Infiltration and Espionage Unit."</p><p>"I&amp;E? You?" Erina-sensei was at once delighted. "That's excellent! I remember your class quite well. If we weren't at war, we would have scouted you for sure. You were a natural during the demeanor unit."</p><p>"Oh, no," I demurred politely, but she was already pulling out a blank scroll and a brush pen with a wide grin.</p><p>"Leave it to me, Namikaze," she declared cheerfully. "I'll pass your inquiry along straight to the unit head. I'm certain he'll be able to find something for you. No one your age ever bothers with I&amp;E in wartime so he'll be ecstatic. Any of us would be happy to start teaching the trade to the next generation."</p><p>I blinked. That was rather easier than I had thought it would be. And straight to the unit head, too? I supposed all of the divisions were hurting for people these days. So much the more for the non-combat specialists, it seemed.</p><p>"Done!" Erina-sensei signed her name and then motioned at me with her pen. "I'll bring it with me to our section meeting tonight. Why don't you come back tomorrow around this same time? I'll give you his response."</p><p>I took that as my cue to bow deeply. "Thank very much for your help, Sensei," I replied formally. "I'm extremely grateful."</p><p>"My pleasure, Namikaze," Erina-sensei waved a hand with a laugh. "Well! Hopefully we'll be seeing lot more of each other soon, then, huh?"</p><p>I rose from my bow and smiled again.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Distant Thunder</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"We have a little bit of time left before you have to leave," Hayato-sensei observed as he glanced at his watch. "There's something I'd like to ask you about before I let you go. May I?"</p><p>"What is it?" I wondered. At this point of the session Hayato-sensei usually just let me talk about whatever I felt was significant. He didn't often try to steer the conversation himself.</p><p>"Souhei and I were speaking recently and you came up in a bit of an aside," Hayato-sensei replied a tad apologetically. "You've already talked to me about the fight—and of course I haven't shared anything you've said without your permission—but Souhei mentioned he was concerned that you might be bottling up your feelings about it. He didn't want to be pushy, so he hasn't made too much of a point to ask you about it, but he is a bit worried. So I thought I would check in with you: is there anything—anything at all—troubling you about it?"</p><p>"Hmm," I said and looked out the window thoughtfully. Uncle Souhei was fretting about me in such a way? I was a little surprised. If someone were to be worrying about me like that, I would have thought it would be Auntie Reiko, not him. Uncle was so cool-headed and distant. I had always taken him for the type who would rather let a person sort through her trauma on her own time, at her own pace, without getting involved.</p><p>"There are times when it might seem like he's cold," Hayato-sensei murmured with an indecipherable look in his eye, "but he isn't really. He's only trying to stay emotionally detached. He watches all of you, Suzu-san, and he does worry. No matter what he says, after all, he knows that you all look to him as a father."</p><p>I looked at him quizzically. That only begged the question of why Uncle felt the need to emotionally detach himself from us. But Hayato-sensei just shook his head and smiled a sad smile that said it wasn't his place to tell me.</p><p>"Well," I inclined my head, because in truth, it probably wasn't. And more than that this appointment was about me, not my uncle. "I haven't really been thinking about it so I don't have a lot to report. Nothing has really changed. He's… not here anymore. I have a new place in the Forces. It's weird being on my own, I guess, but everyone hits that point in their life sooner or later, so it's nothing to really be upset about, right?"</p><p>"That's a very healthy way of looking at it." Hayato-sensei nodded with approval. "I'm glad you can have that mindset."</p><p>There was a moment of silence and I realized after a moment that he was waiting for me to share the rest of my thoughts. I looked out the window again.</p><p>"I don't think I really want to talk about it," I finally confessed. "...It makes me kind of mad, so I'd rather just not think about it. There's no point in dwelling."</p><p>"So long as you know," Hayato-sensei replied gently, "that anger is a valid and reasonable response. You were attacked emotionally and physically in an unacceptable way. No one could reasonably fault you for it."</p><p>There was a long beat of silence in which we merely looked at one another. Then I sighed, "Of course not. In this case, at least, anger is a sign of self-worth, isn't it? I know that."</p><p> Hayato-sensei was quiet for a moment. He seemed to be thinking. But after the pause he only tilted his head and said, "If you do, then all the better. My apologies for prying, Suzu-san."</p><p>"Not at all… " I blinked again. There was a long beat. "Um… I guess that must be it for today, then?"</p><p>Hayato-sensei consulted his watch once more. "You guess well. You start training at the Intel Division today, don't you? I'd better let you go."</p><p>We stood and exchanged the customary post-appointment pleasantries. I scheduled my follow-up with Hayato-sensei's secretary, settled my monthly bill, and then headed off into the heart of the village.</p>
<hr/><p>The Intel Division stood between the hospital and the Tower and was as heavily guarded as either. It was actually quite fascinating to see how these three buildings created a triangle of absolute security. I'd only ever passed through this part of the village on messenger runs so I hadn't noticed it before, but if one stood at the very center of this space the sound of the village was nearly twice as layered as it was at the outskirts.</p><p>When I was here an additional hum was present beneath all the usual sounds of the village. It was a deep sound, barely audible, and at its edges a strange, hollowed-out melody echoed. It was rich and as complex as an orchestra but also somehow textureless and empty at the same time.</p><p>It was a bemusing sound and it took me many years to learn its source. In fact, it wasn't until after I'd had the opportunity to visit the ANBU HQ a few times that I realized that high-chakra shinobi would still echo when they suppressed their presences. In normal settings that echo was inaudible but if enough of them gathered in one place—like they did in the ANBU Base or in the village center—the effect was just like that of the one I heard: a textureless, empty orchestra. It was all the variety of sound with the substance of each signature taken out from it.</p><p>In the Intel Division itself I&amp;E's base of operations was located in the wing farthest from T&amp;I's. Several other units stood between us and them: Logistics, Cryptography, Domestic Affairs, Foreign Affairs, Research and Development, Equipments… The other offices were all accessible to whoever bothered to walk in, but the door to T&amp;I was sealed and guarded openly by a tall and unabashedly menacing ANBU. That probably wasn't uncalled for, though. They were in charge of the highest of the high-risk prisoners; tighter security was more than expected.</p><p>The cultures of the units I could see were quite varied. In Logistics paperwork appeared to be attacked in a tag-team manner; a glimpse inside their office revealed that all of their scrolls were piled together on a common stand. When people went to pick out new assignments they went in groups of three or four, and there were a few large tables upon which several people could work together at once. Conversely, the population in Cryptography pointedly did not mix tasks. Their workspaces were extremely private; several of the desks had walls and there were next to no loose objects in their office. Everything was tidy, locked into large organizers, and had to be retrieved on an item-by-item basis with individual keys.</p><p>As for Domestic and Foreign Affairs, they were practically bleeding into one another. The shuffle of references between the two was constant. In fact, they were at the point that several of their bookshelves had been placed on dollies and were perpetually being wheeled about in the hallway between them. They, too, had individual workstations, but it seemed that everyone could walk up to anyone else's desk and seize its contents at will. I had no idea how their members maintained any sort of workflow with those kind of shenanigans going on, but as it turned out, D&amp;FA—they were often referred to as a single entity despite being, in fact, separate units—was famous for its blistering, godlike efficiency. It seemed that whatever system they had going was effective.</p><p>There were several other offices in the Division but I didn't have time to look at them all before I had to report to my real destination, Infiltration and Espionage. Of all the offices I had peeked into today this one seemed the warmest. A sense of easygoing, casual camaraderie filled the air, and it was more tangible than the aura even the tightly-knit members of Logistics had been producing; there was a table in the corner devoted completely to snacks and several people were standing around and eating together. There were singular desks here, too, but they were more individualized. Several of them were decorated with personal belongings like pictures, colorful paperweights, small baubles, and even a few magnetic dry erase boards. Thankfully, people did seem to be keeping their hands off of one another's assignments. A handful were using the whiteboards to draw stick figure fights or tic-tac-toe boards without permission, though. I caught sight of one such person being smacked upside the head for erasing someone else's to-do list.</p><p>Several people were reading or writing when I arrived but many were not. Some were talking to their neighbors; I caught a pair quizzing each other with flashcards and another speaking only in sign language. Two women were leaning over a mirror in the corner, discussing methods of making false wrinkles while trio of men looked over their shoulders with interest.</p><p>I'd spent a sizable moment observing from the door before someone spotted me. She was a young black-haired girl—and she was a girl, probably only a few years older than me—with a classic long bob and traditional blunt bangs.</p><p>"Hey there, stranger," she greeted me amicably as she leaned back from her work. "What's your business in I&amp;E today?"</p><p>A few interested faces glanced up to look at me. I briefly searched them for Erina-sensei but didn't find her. Did she have a desk here in I&amp;E? Well, she was probably at the Academy right now anyway.</p><p>"Um," I said as I put a hand on the doorframe, "I'm looking for Imasaki-buchou… I'm the new apprentice," I added.</p><p>A faint ooh rose from the room. Word about the new recruit had spread fast, then. I guessed noncombat apprentices really were that rare.</p><p>The girl's eyes lit up.</p><p>"Hey!" she sprung up for a handshake. "Nice to meet you! I'm Anzu Imasaki, the unit head's assistant."</p><p>"Hey," I replied with a hesitant grin. I took distant note of her surname. "I'm Suzu Namikaze."</p><p>"Suzu-san, then! It's a pleasure!" she grasped my hand and shook it warmly. "Naoto's office is just over here. Come on."</p><p>Anzu led me to a door a few feet away from her desk. She opened it without knocking and ushered me inside to where a black-haired man was sitting at a desk in the center of the room. The space was sparse of decoration but there were so many scrolls and books of different size and color lining the walls that it almost didn't matter. A plant and a cup of water were situated at the corner of his desk.</p><p>Naoto Imasaki was staring out into space with his chin propped up on a hand. His gaze was idle but his other hand was running across the length of a scroll with steady deliberation. He tilted his head upon our entry and turned curious, if not somewhat unfocused, eyes in my direction.</p><p>"Hello," he greeted me. His pleasant smile was aimed about a foot over my head—at the height, I realized, where an adult's face would be located. "Welcome to I&amp;E. I don't think we've met before… how can I help you, sir?"</p><p>I was too dumbstruck to reply. I'd imagined a lot of things about the head of Infiltration and Espionage, but never in my life would I have I suspected he would be blind.</p><p>"It's a girl, Naoto," Anzu giggled good-naturedly. "The new apprentice. Suzu Namikaze."</p><p>"Hello," I said once I'd finally found my voice. Naoto's unseeing gaze corrected itself with pinpoint accuracy.</p><p>"Oh, pardon me." He lifted his chin and dropped his arm. His other hand halted. "That's right, Misuzu-san was coming in today. It's one already, Anzu?"</p><p>"Just about," Anzu confirmed.</p><p>"My," Naoto murmured to himself. He took his scroll and began rolling it shut. "Thank you, then." He looked ready to say something to me when he paused. "Oh! While you're here, Anzu, would you mind fetching and transcribing the Unou report for me? Kana-san said that it was delivered today."</p><p>"Oh, if it's Unou, I did that already," Anzu replied. "They delivered it to my mailbox by mistake. I'll put it in with the rest of the afternoon load."</p><p>Naoto stood and aimed a fond smile at her. "Blessed girl," he said affectionately. "I&amp;E would fall apart without you."</p><p>Anzu giggled again. "I know."</p><p>Familial exchange so ended, Anzu waved at me before returning to her desk. Naoto paced over to the corner of the room and retrieved the long, slim cane leaning against the wall there.</p><p>"Walk with me," he invited. He was already halfway to the door. "I've been inside longer than I meant to be."</p><p>Walking with Naoto immediately made it clear that his use of a cane was 90% unnecessary. Perhaps it was because he worked in the Intel Division and knew its halls by heart, or perhaps he was just very good at hearing other people approach, but any time a potential obstacle appeared he would glide past as smoothly as any sighted man. I followed along after him in fascinated silence, examining his stride and wondering at his serenity.</p><p>"Well then, Misuzu-san," Naoto suddenly said. We halted just beside a door to the courtyard. "May I ask you a few questions? I would like to know you a little better."</p><p>I found myself feeling wary. I didn't know why but something about his unshakable calmness was unnerving. It was scary when anyone was that self-assured, and doubly so that person was a ninja. His expression made one wonder if he had some sort of secret doomsday weapon in his pocket.</p><p>"What would you like to know?" I asked, shifting back onto my left foot.</p><p>His lips twitched. I was struck with the impression that he found me greatly amusing, which worried me even more. What exactly was he thinking about me? He was surely analyzing me, but what were his findings? His face seemed say that he was gleaning the innermost essence of my being just by hearing my replies. How was that even possible?</p><p>"Ah, don't be anxious," Naoto said as if sensing my explosion of worry. "Your place in I&amp;E is assured no matter what you say to me today, really. There are too few of us for me to refuse you. I'd just like to ask you a few trivia questions is all."</p><p>"...All right," I agreed. I tried not to let my voice betray how much he'd unsettled me. The blind man smiled again.</p><p>True to his word his questions were very conversational. In a way it really was like trivia. My favorite color, my preferred book genre, my pastimes—for some reason, Naoto began to look very pleased when I told him I read girls' novels and liked to sew. By the time the questionnaire was done he was looking positively cheerful.</p><p>"That's excellent, Misuzu-san," he clapped his hands together brightly. "That's very helpful. I think I know just what to do with you."</p><p>Anxiety was quickly giving way to bemusement. I couldn't fathom how in the world could such hobbies as embroidery and teen romance would be of help to him. Naoto, though, just grinned and took off back in the direction of I&amp;E, leaving me to scurry after his long, sprightly stride.</p><p>"Oyuki-san!" Naoto called when we'd returned. "Please come to my office for a moment. Misuzu-san, follow me."</p><p>The summoned Oyuki got up met us at the door to Naoto's office. Naoto's hand glided across the wood of the portal before alighting on the door handle.</p><p>"Oyuki-san, this is Misuzu Namikaze-san, our new apprentice," Naoto introduced me as he opened the door. "Misuzu-san, this is Oyuki Hanamura-san, one of our most senior infiltration agents."</p><p>She looked me over curiously. "Hello."</p><p>"Hello," I replied. She had the coloring of a standard Konoha shinobi—tea-brown hair and dark brown eyes. She was young, it seemed to me, but not that young. She was perhaps the same age as my foster mother.</p><p>"Oyuki-san, I was considering where in the unit I'd like to place Misuzu-san for training. What do you think? Would it be very difficult for you if I were to place her with your people?"</p><p>Oyuki looked at me again, but this time her eyes carried steely calculation. I went stiff as a board, which somehow made the sightless Naoto smile. Oyuki began an unabashed verbal assessment of me.</p><p>"Well, she's got decently good looks," she reported baldly. "You do makeup? No, that's your natural face? Then you'll do all right in that, I wager… hm. Were you thinking domestic or international focus, Naoto-san?"</p><p>"Domestic," Naoto replied. "I suspect she will have valuable insight into Fire Country's pop culture."</p><p>I let out a noise of understanding. So that was why he'd been so pleased to hear "girls' novels." Of course. This was probably the one field in which my consumption of young adult literature could be considered an asset.</p><p>"Oh, is that so? ...If that's the case the hair's going to be a problem."</p><p>Naoto blinked in confusion before he seemed to realize her meaning. Then he took on a look of dismay.</p><p>"Oh no," he said. "She's blond, isn't she? Of course she is. She's a pure-blooded Namikaze."</p><p>At this I gave Naoto a sharp look. Yes, it was true—my family line had married within the clan for at least the past five generations. This was common knowledge amongst the members of the House—we often had fun tracing our lineages in the clan registry—but I had made no mention of my blood status to him at all. How did he know about it?</p><p>The obvious answer was that he'd read about me before our meeting. But that only led to questions of where exactly he'd gotten that information It was doubtful he had access to the clan records themselves, but then again there was bound to be some documentation somewhere within the village administration that made note of my lineage. Was that just the power an Intel Division unit head had? Once again I found myself feeling unsettled. Who could say what else the village—and by extension, he—knew about me?</p><p>But that, I concluded a small moment later, was also what it meant to be a shinobi.</p><p>"What does that mean for her chances as an in-house infiltrator?" Naoto asked worriedly.</p><p>Oyuki made a thoughtful sound. I wondered vaguely if this was what models felt when their agencies were trying to find work for them. There was a strange pressure despite the fact that there was no helping at all what color hair I'd been born with.</p><p>"If you had marked her for Lightning, Earth, or Wind Country it wouldn't be a problem," Oyuki said after a moment. "But unfortunately the only blonds you can find here in central Fire Country come from the Yamanaka and Namikaze clans themselves. It's a dead giveaway that she's from a ninja clan. We could chance claiming that she's just someone's orphaned bastard, but in general we prefer our premises to be a little stronger than that. She'll have to dye her hair for most assignments."</p><p>"And what is the significance of that?" Naoto questioned.</p><p>"Well, it can mean a couple of things. In some cases it won't play into the assignment at all beyond the initial dyeing. But if she goes into a long-term mission she'll have to continually dye her roots as they grow in. Depending on the assignment this could go by without issue, but there have also been cases in the past where agents have come under suspicion and had their belongings searched. Things can get ugly if the dye is found. It's quite incriminating if there are questions about spycraft from the get-go; it usually takes a very airtight explanation to get out of that, if at all. And of course there are worries about supply if she goes into a rural locale," Oyuki added contemplatively.</p><p>"I see," Naoto sighed. "And in your experience, what is the outlook for light-haired domestics? How have people managed in the past?"</p><p>"Well, as you know, we have several Yamanakas in residence," Oyuki mused. "Yamanakas are perfect for this line of work," she added for my benefit. "Their information-gathering means are unparallelled."</p><p>Indeed, that would be the case, wouldn't it? I found myself reflecting over the image of a ponytailed Yamanaka girl making hand signs over an exam paper.</p><p>"Generally they have no trouble beyond what is standard in short-term assignments. By trend, though, they struggle in long-term lower- or middle-class personas even if they complete the mission without incident. They seem to shine best in high society. A great deal of our capital agents are, have been, and will be Yamanakas."</p><p>When thinking of the possible complications of espionage something as mundane as hair dye had never really occurred to me. But in hindsight it would be a significant matter. Anything that brought attention to or poked holes in an infiltrator's story could be exploited to disastrous effect. This was a field in which people could ill afford to be caught, especially when it implicated the village in places that it had no business being.</p><p>"Regardless of all that it's very possible for her to have a healthy career as a domestic," Oyuki concluded. "Everyone brings unique challenges to the field regardless. If it weren't this it would be something else. I wouldn't worry too much about it, buchou."</p><p>Naoto's face bloomed into a smile.</p><p>"I see," he said, looking restored to good cheer. "That's a relief. So what do you think, Misuzu-san? Would you enjoy learning about domestic infiltration? It's not a particularly glamorous focus but it's some of our most important work. Knowledge about Fire Country's inner workings is the backbone of all the village's collective intelligence."</p><p>I considered it. I thought about my life as a shinobi so far—all of the running, the walking, the foreign cliffs and unfamiliar plains and rivers. My time in carriages, sitting atop supplies, and my time keeping pace beside horses, and washing the dirt out from between my toes at night. And the violence, too, I remembered. Stabbing people. Being stabbed. Being beaten and throttled and watching other people bleed to death on the crags. In a way my life read like an adventure novel; I was just the sort of heroine protagonist who would overcome all of my childhood hardships and go on into a glorious future. Yes, that was the kind of story village kids read about in the books. The kind where the main character would become a war hero, cutting down the enemies of her people with fearsome aplomb, or maybe where she joined a secret circle of elites and became the ultimate ninja's fantasy—a loyal, shadowy protector whose excellence was entirely unmatched. Susumu's face flashed in my mind.</p><p>"What sort of matters do domestic infiltrators investigate?" I asked Oyuki.</p><p>"Well, to be honest, it varies greatly," she replied. "I'm an in-house agent myself and the bulk of my work tends to be industrial espionage. That's stuff like finding out business and tradecraft secrets for the benefit of Fire Country's own economy. If you go the route that most Yamanakas go you might end up doing the same with the merchant class—learning about production secrets, investigating suppliers, and so on. Or if you become one of the capital infiltrators you might end up in the Fire Daimyo's court, in which case you'd probably function as support for one of the long-term agents who have established powerbases. Basically you'd gather information about activities around the capital, which your supervisor would then use in conjunction with existing influence to steer politics in favor of Konoha's interests. And there's always the requests of clients to consider," she added. "Sometimes they do ask for exciting things but a lot of the time it's more of the same. As Naoto-buchou said, it's not a particularly glamorous specialization."</p><p>"It sounds so mundane," I remarked. "It's nothing at all like what I've been doing until now."</p><p>"Yes, we hear that often," Naoto smiled humorously. "We're not a very popular wartime unit, but I think you'd already gathered that."</p><p>Yes, I had, hadn't? Erina-sensei had said it too—no one bothers with this stuff in wartime. And yet here I was.</p><p>"I think," I began slowly, "that it would be wonderful."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Interior Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"O sweet Spring Flower, Miss Misuzu! I have admired your beauty since I first laid eyes upon you. Please, won't you accompany me on a date?"</p><p>This hammy request was delivered not only on one knee but also with an incredibly gaudy bouquet of flowers. I darted my eyes left and right and found that a myriad of passers-by had stopped to stare. A nearby toddler began to cry.</p><p>"Miss Misuzu!" Gai Maito implored.</p><p>I found myself beginning to sweat. I knew about Gai, of course. All people knew about Gai even if they didn't have memories from a strange alternate universe. How could they not? He was Gai. He was the biggest village weirdo since… since ever, maybe.</p><p>My first inclination was to put on my best Yoshiya-face, glare with frigid superiority, and nope the hell away. But even though Oyuki was not in the immediate vicinity somehow I just knew that if I broke character now she'd hear about it. And oh, I did not want her to hear about that.</p><p>Right up until this very moment demeanor practice had been my favorite training task. It had been the simplest and most entertaining of my exercises, usually involving a delivery or other miscellaneous task, in which I would be instructed to adopt a certain personality type and try my hardest to sell it to whomsoever I happened to encounter. Usually it was great fun, especially if I ran into family or clanmates, and with my ongoing assignment of "giggling socialite" that was doubly true. Now, though, I was having second thoughts. Second thoughts about everything, really, because being asked on a date by Rock Lee's future sensei was something that would make any young woman question her life.</p><p>"Oh, Gai-san, that's so sweet of you," I tittered, nervously and admittedly without much substance. "I'm flattered."</p><p>Because my errands often took me to the Academy and since part of my current training was learning to project the image of a sociable young woman, I had become rather well-known amongst the Academy community. It was not surprising in the least that Gai, who I knew to be a frequent volunteer tutor in taijutsu, had seen seen me about enough to start admiring my looks. Nor was it a surprise that he had begun to admire my looks—and I meant that in a truly factual way. Currently I was the most well-groomed I'd ever been in my life. If there were ever a time for me to gain an admirer based solely on physical appearance it would be now.</p><p>Why was that? The answer was simply that I was under daily scrutiny. Oyuki was my main supervisor, but Fuyuji, I&amp;E's cultural apparel advisor, critiqued my hair, clothes, and general looks almost every morning I reported to the unit. This, of course, was also at Oyuki's behest. In her words she wanted me to have a taste of what sort of daily diligences were required of an infiltrator.</p><p>Fuyuji was an interesting fellow with extremely extensive knowledge of both male and female fashions. If he hadn't been born into a ninja clan I suspected he would have lived a very happy and fulfilling life as a tailor. He had a keen eye for design and the sort of taste that made a person look sharp without being showy. I saw him sketching all the time, and it was a real shame he wouldn't devote his full time to a clothing brand; it was obvious where his passion was.</p><p>Ordinarily I might have been irked to have personal choices like how to wear my hair and uniform dictated to me, but as it was Fuyuji and I had really hit it off. Once he learned that I was an avid needlecraft enthusiast, and that I was far along enough in skill to be wearing clothes and alterations of my own making daily, he began sharing all sorts of his very fashionable designs with me. Unlike him I had access to a sewing machine (Hisame-jii, who was possibly the only ninja seamster in all of Konoha, had one) and even though it was primitive and treadle-powered it made me a more of a sewing powerhouse than he could ever dream of being.</p><p>Our relationship quickly soared beyond simple tutelage. We became something like business partners. In exchange for following his instructions in hair and dress I was given incredibly high quality fabrics so I could sew and sometimes model clothes for him. He had lots of young nieces, ones even littler than I was, so more often than not they were very cutesy outfits. But every now and then he would draw up elegant and ladylike dresses for me to try out. That in itself was very enjoyable, and in fact I liked some of his stuff so much that I sewed it up in sturdy chuunin blues and put it on under my vest, but most vitally I was allowed to keep the leftover materials for my own projects.</p><p>But all of that was distraction from the point. I couldn't keep my mind out of the present much longer. The reality was that, due to a combination of dressing well, styling my hair, and pretending to be a nice girl, Gai Maito had taken a liking to me decided to ask me out. And he was waiting for a response from me <em>right now</em>. I couldn't stand here without answering for much longer.</p><p>Mechanically, I held out my hands and accepted the garish bouquet of purple and orange flowers. A ludicrous amount of hope flared in Gai's eyes, and he clasped his hands together and looked up at me as though he was praying to some sort of ten-year-old deity. I wondered if he he even realized he was older than me. Wasn't this embarrassing for him? He was Kakashi's age, after all, and Kakashi would probably die before he behaved like this for anyone in public.</p><p>"Gai-san," I began. Then I hesitated, because when he met my eyes they were full of such earnest attention that I knew at once I would be the worst kind of person if I returned anything else but an equally earnest answer. After all, he had gone out of his way to buy me flowers and ask me out in person. That was bravery. He was making a sincere effort to know me right now. What kind of person would spit in the face of that? Not the kind of person I wanted to be, demeanor training or no.</p><p>"Gai-san," I started again, more warmly now. "I'm really touched. Thank you."</p><p>And even though Gai often projected the image of being dense and sometimes delusional, he was as perceptive as any ninja ought to be, and sometimes even more than that, too. The preteen before me was a future jounin, after all. One didn't rise to that level of excellence by being delusional. Gai looked up and returned my smile with equal friendliness and warmth.</p><p>And then I faltered. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with his smile or his response at all. In fact it was a really handsome smile, one made even more wonderful by the fact that it was soft and calm and nothing at all like his usual frightening grins. It was that his smile brought forth in my mind the image of another boy's smile—the smile that he had given me when I'd given him a vanilla cupcake to celebrate his birthday. I swallowed.</p><p>"I'm really touched, Gai-san," I whispered as I replayed that sunny scene in my mind's eye. "But I don't think… I don't think that I could go on a date with you. I… I'm sorry."</p><p>Gai stood as tears began to gather in my eyes.</p><p>"Oh no," I mumbled flusteredly and began fanning my face with my hand. "I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… I'm sorry. I—"</p><p>"I understand," Gai interrupted with surprising gentleness. "Please don't worry about a thing, Miss Misuzu. I'm to blame for asking so suddenly. I'll try again when the time is more convenient."</p><p>He smiled again when I tried to hold out the flowers and pushed my arms back to my chest. Then he left without any further attempts to ask. I returned to I&amp;E's office in tears.</p><p>"What? What's wrong?" one of the ninjas by the door asked, startled, as I appeared in the doorway with my armful of gaudy flowers.</p><p>"He was so nice," I cried in reply. "I didn't realize that he was that nice."</p><hr/><p>I first noticed it a few months into my apprenticeship. After taking part in a spar on Academy grounds, the faint whisper of a clandestine conversation drifted into my ear.</p><p>"...such a disappointment."</p><p>I turned my head and caught sight of two Academy instructors hurriedly looking away. They moved towards the end of the hall and ducked around a corner with ill-concealed haste. I paused for a moment, considering. Then I lifted my arms and began making hand seals.</p><p>Eavesdropping skills and chakra-enhanced hearing techniques were so important for espionage that Naoto hadn't even bothered to wait for me and Oyuki to lay out a training regimen; on my second day in the unit he just stopped me by the door and showed me the techniques right then and there. They were all very basic jutsu—in the future I would learn more complex and specialized techniques—so it was no trouble at all to hear the rest of what they were saying.</p><p>"She was one of the top students, too. We had so much hope that she'd finally be able to excel once her guardians stopped interfering with her training."</p><p>My eyebrows flew up. I had figured they'd been talking about me, if only by the reactions they had to my presence, but that was a far more escalated degree of talk than I had expected to hear. I had always known that Auntie Reiko and Uncle Souhei's decision to forbid my skipping of grades had been unpopular, of course, but I hadn't realized there were people out there who were so invested in criticizing them.</p><p>This alone wouldn't have made me overly angry. Auntie and Uncle had known what they were doing and were thick-skinned enough not to be bothered by such gossip. Besides, those instructors didn't know us and they didn't know what sort of internal circumstances were going on in our family. But what followed did make me angry. It made the paper handout I had in my hands crumple so hard it almost returned to pulp.</p><p>"—and now look at her... things seemed so promising when she and her teammate were promoted, but now? Did you see her sparring with the third-years? Her skill level..."</p><p>"Don't tell anyone I said this, but my desk is next to the Special Forces recruiter's, and I heard the other boy, the one who got left behind for Mikawaya's mission, got taken up into ANBU."</p><p>If they had been lamenting the dissolution of Team 11 and wishing that I could have had more consistent mentorship it would have been one thing. I wouldn't have been entirely pleased—after all, whose fault did they think Team 11's dissolution was? as time went on it baffled me more and more how the instructors acted like victims—but in the end they still would have been wishing, however hypocritically, for my good.</p><p>"So what, they passed her up?"</p><p>"I heard she turned them down so she could join I&amp;E instead."</p><p>There was a tsking noise, soft but clear in my ears.</p><p>"She's more of a coward than I anticipated."</p><p>Talk about my team and grade-skipping was one thing. As Academy instructors they had been involved, however peripherally, with my student affairs. But I wasn't a student anymore and my life after the Academy was none of their business. They had no right to be making comments about my career choices.</p><p>Hot indignation bubbled up beneath my collar. What the hell did these outsiders think they knew? Susumu had accepted my decision without question, and not even Akihiko, for all his misdirected rage, had called me a coward when he'd left.</p><p>For a moment, I stood shaking in the hallway. I wanted to but I couldn't go up to them and scream in their faces. Even when I was angry I knew how idiotic that would be. Eventually I took a measured breath and opened a nearby window.</p><p>It was never unusual to see shinobi egressing through such ports as second floor windows, but when I looked over my shoulder at the instructors after landing in the courtyard they started and avoided eye contact. Disgusted, I marched over to a nearby training post.</p><p>From the corner of my eye I saw their figures shift to track me. I pushed my foot back and fell into a Hurricane Gale stance. Then I lifted my arms, picked up my leg, and plowed it through the post with enough force to rival one of Akihiko's best kicks. The top half of the training post flew across the field and slammed into a nearby tree. It shuddered and dropped an armload of pine cones.</p><p>They were too shocked to dodge my gaze then. I stared them both in the eye. It was a challenge against my seniors but I didn't care.</p><p>The two instructors ducked their heads and walked hurriedly away.</p><hr/><p>Once my ire had drained away it left me sprawled on the kitchen table. That evening after dinner, after everyone had dispersed to their own business, I sat face-down in the kitchen as Auntie Reiko absently washed dishes. Normally I'd have helped her, but she was so far through with them now that there wasn't really a point.</p><p>"So?" she finally asked after she'd finished a few minutes later. She beat her hands against her apron to dry them. "What went on with you today, Suzu?"</p><p>"I did something really stupid," I glumly replied.</p><p>Auntie sat down across from me. I confessed the details of the confrontation at the Academy, hiding neither the fact that I had eavesdropped nor that I had destroyed Academy property in a fit of rage, though the details made my cheeks burn bright red with embarrassment. Getting upset because I'd eavesdropped and picking a fight over it… it was the height of immaturity. I let out a long sigh.</p><p>But Auntie, rather than scolding me, looked pensive. There was a crease in her brow and her blue eyes were distant with memory. She placed her chin on her fist.</p><p>"During the Second War," she began, which made me sit bolt upright, "before my last mission, there was a squad I was a temporary member of."</p><p>Neither Auntie nor Uncle ever spoke of the Second Shinobi World War. We all knew why, of course; we were the children of their fallen friends and comrades. Possibly when I was younger I wondered why they wouldn't talk about it to at least us, but lately I never felt the need to question it. After all, there were all sorts of matters I didn't want to talk about to anyone. I think I knew intuitively that no one was necessarily trying to keep secrets. What was the point? Everyone else was living through the same circumstances, after all, and we all had our own traumas. But it drained energy just to think of these things. There was simply no will to hash it all out again, and why would there be?</p><p>"It was a really hodgepodge team, but we all still came from regular combat units—all of us except for one guy, that is. He was from the Intel Division and he'd never been an open field battle in his life. All of his fieldwork had been scouting and surveying.</p><p>"They pulled him because no one else had been available. There were seven of us in total and about half of the team really enjoyed taking the piss out of him. We could all tell that he trained and he was good in a fight, but he wasn't on the same level as us. He wasn't combat specialized like we were, of course, so he couldn't have been. But the guys looked down on him anyway. He was an outsider on the team for a long time.</p><p>"But one day we were on a mission really far into Suna territory and it was a huge disaster. Two of our guys were killed outright and the rest of us were injured. It was bad; we had to leave their bodies behind, and while we were running it started to look like we'd have to ditch the two who had been injured the worst, too. That wasn't unusual back then. The ninjutsu specialist and I were ready to do it because we'd done it before, but the guy from Intel refused. He said there was still a way."</p><p>"What happened?" I asked, engrossed, because I'd never heard any of her war stories before. It had never occurred to me that she might have had to leave comrades behind. Auntie rolled her shoulders and gave me a shrugging smile. It was not a regretful look, not per se, but it was a somber face that said that she'd grappled with it for a long time in the past. I wondered what that must have been like. Survivor's guilt was bad enough on its own; what would having to physically abandon a squadmate engender?</p><p>"We argued but in the end we gave him his chance. So he told us to take cover and hide out while he went and infiltrated."</p><p>I snapped back to attention.</p><p>"He was I&amp;E?" I exclaimed. "He went solo?"</p><p>"He was," Auntie nodded. "And he did. Honestly, when he left we thought that was the last of him, and we made an agreement that we'd wait twelve hours before leaving. But he came back before the time limit was up and his pack was full of Suna uniforms. He'd managed to steal four whole sets of gear from the supply depot we'd been skirting around."</p><p>"What?" I gaped. "How?"</p><p>Auntie smiled. "Well," she said thoughtfully, "he didn't give us the full story, but from what I gathered he removed all of the gear that identified him as a Konoha-nin, ran in, and acted like he belonged. He had a lot of knowledge about Suna's military culture and procedures because he was from Intel and he had been a scout. My guess is he was able to use that to trick his way through to the supplies and back again."</p><p>It must have taken nerves of steel. I couldn't even imagine it. The closest I got was picturing myself trying to blend in with the Iwa ninjas at Tatsumi River, and just thinking about that was enough to make me feel a little nauseous.</p><p>"So we dressed up as Suna-nin and we were able to slip through. Whenever we ran into patrols he pretended he was a field medic escorting a platoon through for emergency medical attention. He gave fake names and ID numbers for them to write down at their checkpoints and we ran before they could match the information with their control post. We never got the two bodies back, but everyone else lived."</p><p>Auntie Reiko smiled again at my astounded look. Then the turn of her lips faded and she shifted her gaze towards the kitchen window. Dusk was falling outside.</p><p>"His name was Manaki," she said after a long while. "I hadn't thought about him in years. I can't even remember his surname anymore… but those instructors you told me about reminded me of him and his bullies. He never said anything to them about it afterwards but they all knew that they would have died if he hadn't been from Intel."</p><p>And suddenly I began to feel ashamed. In the face of such a heroic story my boorish display of violence was twice as detestable. I put my face in my hands and wondered if I ought to just give up taijutsu altogether.</p><p>"Don't," Auntie Reiko advised. As expected of my foster mother; she knew exactly what I was thinking. "Manaki only survived long enough to save us because he'd been diligent in his combat training. I mean it when I say he was wasn't bad in a fight—he just wasn't as good as we were. Besides," she added, "imagine the talk at the Academy if you started backing off your martial training now."</p><p>I dropped my hands in horror. Auntie Reiko began to laugh.</p><hr/><p>Surprisingly it was Uncle Souhei who produced a solution to my gossip problems. Ordinarily it wouldn't have been unusual to turn for him for advice, and indeed, no one was ever taken off-guard by his thoughtful solutions. What was surprising was that he was suddenly participating in House life again. He'd hardly been home in the past two weeks and it had been just as long since I'd last spoken to him properly. Just what he was doing or where he was going was a mystery to me, but Auntie Reiko seemed entirely unconcerned, so I eventually decided to leave it be, too.</p><p>"Rather than picking fights," Uncle advised dryly, "you ought to just show them you're still growing your skills. Learn a new ninjutsu or two and practice them in a public place. It'll head off the rumor mill significantly."</p><p>"How do you know?" I asked doubtfully. I expected a glib reply, but he delivered an unexpectedly serious response.</p><p>"When I left active duty," Uncle said, "the talk that followed me was not unlike the talk that is following you right now. It was always the case that, during times of war, people who leave very visible roles find themselves accused cowardice or laziness. But so long as you demonstrate to them that's not the case, the rumors will eventually cease to stick. After I began working as a clan iryou-nin and people saw that my skills weren't going to waste, things calmed down significantly. There were some who thought I was just using my clan to hide away from the warfront, of course," he added thoughtfully, "but I suspect those particular people would have found a way to criticize me no matter what I did."</p><p>This sudden disbursement of wisdom reduced me to a thoughtful silence. Uncle Souhei seemed to sense that I still had more to say, so he fell quiet and waited patiently for me to gather my thoughts.</p><p>"Am I really such a wretch," I asked after a long moment, "if I'm not out in the field slaughtering enemies and bathing in their blood? Why am I a coward for joining I&amp;E?"</p><p>"Why indeed?" Uncle Souhei ruminated. "It's an eternal question, Suzu. I don't know."</p><p>I gazed at him critically. Uncle put his chin on his fist and stared back.</p><p>"You have a theory, though, don't you?" I deduced.</p><p>"Maybe I do," Uncle Souhei sighed at that. "Maybe… sometimes I believe it. That we're addicted to this violence. This is the Third War, after all—we all know what happens. So why else would we keep doing this to ourselves if we weren't addicted? Every time it happens we destroy own people as much as we destroy our enemies."</p><p>I turned my eyes downward and thought about Itsuki-sensei, huddled in the dark like a child. Silent and then sobbing and then empty.</p><p>"People say things like justice, or honor, or revenge," Uncle Souhei murmured, "but it's all just pretense. I think the truth is that we don't know how else to live. But we're too scared to change, so when people do try to live differently—when they try to get by without the violence—we become unsettled and project our fearful selves onto them instead."</p><p>"And that's why you and I are cowards," I finished heavily.</p><p>"That's why we're cowards," Uncle Souhei agreed. And he went silent. I watched as he put his chin on his fist with a faraway look on his face.</p><p>"Suzu, do you believe people can change?" he asked.</p><p>"Eh?" I blinked. "I—yes?"</p><p>Uncle Souhei snorted a bit.</p><p>"Are you asking me or telling me?"</p><p>I scowled at him.</p><p>"You don't have to be mean about it. It's your fault for asking such a non-sequitur question."</p><p>Uncle let out a chuckle as he turned to look at me directly once more.</p><p>"You're right. I'm sorry. Do you believe it?"</p><p>I gave him a look but decided not to press the point. Elders were entitled to their condescension every now and again; I could take the high road.</p><p>"Yeah," I answered honestly. "They can change. I believe it."</p><p>Uncle Souhei blinked as if startled. I gave him an exasperated look. What was wrong with him all of a sudden? He asked a question; he ought to expect an answer.</p><p>"You… do?" he asked a bit dumbly. "Just like that? Even if… they are cowards or traitors?"</p><p>"Why wouldn't they?" I frowned at him. "Obviously they won't always change for the better, but it would be stranger to stay exactly the same. Life is too eventful even if someone is a traitor. And what's this about a traitor all of a sudden anyway?"</p><p>Uncle Souhei quickly looked away.</p><p>"Never mind it," he said. "All this talk about the past made me think of a man I knew."</p><p>"He was a traitor?" I perked up. Auntie's talk about the Second War had made me curious for more stories. "Was he from the Second War?"</p><p>Uncle let out a long, pained sigh. I remembered myself and immediately drew back. Of course talking about a traitor wouldn't be pleasant; this wasn't my place to pry. Before I could take my question back, though, Uncle answered.</p><p>"Yes, it was during the Second War. He had information about the enemy that could have saved lives but he refused to report it."</p><p>"Oh," I said. "That's what you meant by traitor."</p><p>"Am I wrong?" Uncle gave me a sharp look. "Do you know what kind of devastation he could have prevented? That attack killed hundreds, Yasunari and Kazue included. Your parents might still be alive today if he hadn't been such a coward."</p><p>This was startling information, but when I stared up into Uncle's face and saw the cold glint in his blue eyes, I found myself arrested.</p><p>He really hated that man, I thought with wide eyes. The intensity of his gaze was perturbing. I'd never seen such terrible loathing on his face in my life.</p><p>"I… I guess he didn't get caught?" I asked smally. "He probably would have been executed otherwise…"</p><p>And just as suddenly as the emotion came it was gone. Tiredly, Uncle turned his head away once more.</p><p>"No. No one had any reason to believe he'd done wrong and there was no evidence to implicate him. He's alive today in the village, hiding out with his family and pretending he never did anything wrong. And he hasn't changed at all," Uncle uttered. "He's just as much of a traitor and a coward today as he was back then."</p><p>I bit my lip. Any questions I had died in my throat before I could voice them. Whoever that man was and whatever he had been to my uncle, I doubted very much he would tell me if I asked.</p><p>Several long moments passed in which Uncle refused to look at me. Then he finally stood, picked up his cup of cold tea, and left the sitting room table in silence.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Reflections in the Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Niichan!"</p><p>My call was answered by silence, so after a moment of waiting at the front door I ran around the side of the house and unlatched the gate. From there I circled into the backyard and clambered up onto the veranda. I felt a presence just inside, so I let my armload of scrolls and brushes clatter onto the floor.</p><p>"Niichan!" I exclaimed.</p><p>Except it wasn't Minato sitting there by the storm shutters. It was an enormous bear of a man with red markings on his face and a ponytail of shockingly bright white hair. He looked very at ease sitting barefoot there on the tatami. Or he would have, anyway, had he not been staring at me with his eyebrows in his hairline.</p><p>I looked at him, dumbfounded. I was so surprised that I froze halfway on my hands and knees, sandals still hanging off the tips of my toes. One of the scrolls rolled lazily across the floor until it bounced against his knee and came to a gentle halt.</p><p>"Um," I said.</p><p>"Yeah?" he asked, still staring.</p><p>"Is… is Minato-nii… um, home?"</p><p>"No," Jiraiya of the Sannin replied. "He stepped out to grab some booze. I ran out."</p><p>"Then… Kushina-nee—"</p><p>"She's visiting one of her old genin teammates at the hospital."</p><p>Slowly, I pulled the rest of my body onto the veranda. Then I sat upright.</p><p>"He'll be back in a few," Jiraiya offered.</p><p>"Oh… okay," I said.</p><p>We lapsed into an awkward silence. Jiraiya sat back against his hands and regarded me with a curious look.</p><p>"Oh!" I started. Though I knew who he was and that was obvious, Jiraiya didn't know me or how I had entered Minato's extensively warded backyard. I shifted myself into seiza and set my shoulders with formality.</p><p>"Hello, Jiraiya-sama. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Suzu Namikaze. I used to live with Minato at the House and I'm keyed into the seals here so that's how I got in."</p><p>"Oh, so you're one of Souhei's brats, hey?" Jiraiya's face did a strange thing, twitching as if he wanted to grin and to grimace at the same time. I tilted my head at him.</p><p>"Might be that he won't want you talking to me on your own," Jiraiya cautioned. He brought up his hands as if he could ward me—and the responsibility of meeting me—away. "Your uncle and I don't get along."</p><p>This time I was the one with my eyebrows in my hairline. What an unexpected piece of information. What reason did Souhei Namikaze have to be at odds with a famous Sannin? Especially one who was the jounin sensei of his foster son Minato. Lately Uncle seemed to be becoming more and more of a mystery.</p><p>I gave Jiraiya a hard look; Jiraiya shifted uncomfortably. At any other time I would have found that remarkable—me, making the Toad Sage fidget!—but I found I was suddenly too determined to pay it mind.</p><p>"Jiraiya-sama!" I exclaimed.</p><p>"What? What do you want?" he asked uneasily.</p><p>"Please tell me about my uncle!"</p><p>"Why the hell would I do that?" Jiraiya made an incredulous gesture. "Can you imagine how much more the bastard would want to kill me if he found out that I of all people was airing dirty laundry out to his kids? He hates me enough already. Ask him yourself!"</p><p>I opened my mouth to insist, but at that moment Jiraiya put his arm down on his knee and looked me in the eye. A moment passed in silence. Then I found myself deflating.</p><p>"I'm sorry," I mumbled, lowering my head into a bow. "Forgive my rudeness."</p><p>Jiraiya let out a huff of a sigh. But then his gaze softened.</p><p>"He's at it again, I take it? Bad enough that his kid would ask a total stranger about him without knowing a thing."</p><p>I looked away, unwilling to say it. Jiraiya rolled his eyes.</p><p>"How did I guess?" he asked the ceiling exasperatedly. "He never changes."</p><p>"Has he always been like this?" I asked quietly, clenching my hands in my lap.</p><p>"Always? I couldn't say. But for as long as I've known him, yeah."</p><p>A certain distaste simmered in Jiraiya's words as he spoke them. I hadn't been outright doubting him earlier, but in that moment it occurred to me that there really was a history between him and Uncle Souhei. No one spoke with that kind of disdain without a concrete dislike. I lowered my head again, though in a moment I found that I couldn't help but peer up at him through my lashes. Jiraiya took another look at me and sighed.</p><p>"Suzu, was it? Your uncle and I—well, I guess you could say that we just have incompatible life philosophies. But that's life and some people just don't get along. So let's just leave it at that, okay?"</p><p>The dismissal in his words were clear. I nodded my head once and looked back down at my hands. The storm of unease about Uncle Souhei, though, lingered. It had been over a week now since we'd had our talk about the traitor he loathed and I had thought it had settled down, but his unexpected mention seemed to make everything come flying back up into the surface. I began to chew my lip, troubled.</p><p>"Hey," Jiraiya interrupted with surprising firmness. "Enough of that depressing talk, kiddo. You look like you need a distraction. Tell me, what'd you come here for? You need Minato for something?"</p><p>"Oh," I said. I looked over the scrolls and brushes scattered across the floor in front of me. "I wanted his help with a technique. He made the seals for me and they performed flawlessly, but in a real-life combat situation there were pretty significant problems. I was going to ask him if there was something in the fuuinjutsu we should change."</p><p>"Well how about that," Jiraiya commented as a grin began to spread across his face. "Wanna know something, kid?"</p><p>I gave him an inquisitive look. Jiraiya leaned forward and gave me a toothy smile.</p><p>"I'm a fuuinjutsu master," he whispered as if confiding a dire secret to me. "I'm no Minato, but I just so happen to know a thing or two about sealing myself. How about I take a look at these seals of yours while we wait for him, eh?"</p><p>I clapped my hands together with a gasp. How could I have forgotten? Jiraiya of the Sannin had become Konoha's foremost authority on sealing after the death of the Yondaime. He would be more than capable of providing feedback on the wire jutsu. In fact, he might be able to give a much-needed outsider's perspective on the mechanism of the technique. I sprang forward onto my knees.</p><p>"Would you do that for me, Jiraiya-sama?" I asked eagerly, already reaching for the scroll that contained the seals. All stray thoughts of Uncle Souhei flew from mind. Jiraiya let out a hearty laugh.</p><p>"Kid, I already offered. Besides, it's not like I've got anything to do while we wait for him to get back. Heavens knows what's taking the Yellow Flash so long on simple beer run, though…"</p><p>And Minato continued to take a long time. By the time he made it back home, sighing with his lukewarm case of beer in hand, Jiraiya and I were already well-engrossed in a discussion about the wire technique.</p><p>"Here, do it again," he said, holding out his arm. I put my hand on his wrist and pasted a seal. He began to mime a punch; I activated the seal and yanked on it as hard as I could.</p><p>Just as Hayanari's had when we'd fought in Death Valley, Jiraya's arm jerked downward, interrupted. But then his other hand lashed out lightning-quick and snagged the wires. In a second he had them pinned to the floor with a kunai, just like Iwao had. His tug was so strong I was pulled onto my elbows.</p><p>"Yeah, that is a problem," he muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully after he'd released me. "No wonder you almost got killed. The physical connection is this technique's number one strong point, I agree, but it's exploitable to a fatal degree once your opponent figures out the trick is a contact-based seal."</p><p>"What?" Minato immediately looked at me in concern. "Who almost killed you, Suzu?"</p><p>"Oh, niichan!" I started, having been too absorbed to notice his coming. Jiraiya began jeering at his student.</p><p>"You took forever, you good-for-nothing brat," he complained. "I've been stuck talking to this little girl for an entire hour."</p><p>Minato flashed an apologetic smile at his former teacher.</p><p>"Sorry, Jiraiya-sensei. Something came up; I'll tell you about it in a second. But Suzu, what's this about nearly dying? Did something in the sealwork go wrong?"</p><p>"It was way back when I went to Earth Country," I dismissed as cavalierly as I could, making an effort not to think on the relevant moment too deeply. "I've been meaning to figure out a fix for a while now so I came over. When you weren't here Jiraiya-sama offered to help me."</p><p>Minato set the case of beer on the veranda and squatted behind me.</p><p>"So the problem is a countermeasure for being pinned?" he murmured as he looked at the open scroll speculatively. "Is there something that can be done to the sealwork to circumvent such a thing…?"</p><p>We three spent a moment in thoughtful silence. But then Jiraiya suddenly hit his fist into his palm and pointed.</p><p>"Maybe the problem's not the seals," he said. "Maybe the technique is just incomplete."</p><p>Minato and I looked at him quizzically. Jiraiya fixed me with an eager look.</p><p>"Kid, do you know how to use chakra flow?"</p><p>"Eh? Oh, um—yeah, actually. Uncle taught me a little while ago."</p><p>"And is your affinity wind? Or is it water?"</p><p>"Wind. But why—? Oh!"</p><p>Jiraiya quickly stuck out his kunai. I reached over, applied my seal to it, and activated it. Once again he reached out for the wires, but when he touched them I pulsed wind chakra through the threads. His fingers came back red.</p><p>"Oh no!" I gasped, jerking back. The movement made the kunai in Jiraya's hand slice in half, right where the wires had wrapped around it, and the blade sprang up into the air. Minato's eyes widened.</p><p>With unbelievable reflexes he jumped. Rotating his body in a high kick, he deflected the metal into the wall with the side of his sandal before it could fly into my forehead. The whole affair was over in a second.</p><p>There was a weighty pause as the three of us stared at the embedded fragment, breathing heavily. Jiraiya dropped the bladeless handle of his kunai. Minato slowly reached out and put his hands on my shoulders.</p><p>"I didn't think that would happen," Jiraiya said after a long moment. He looked at me and Minato both, fingers still dripping with blood. "That… was my fault."</p><p>"No, no…" I replied quickly. I shook the wires off my fingers. "I shouldn't have jumped like that."</p><p>"I didn't know your chakra flow was strong enough to cut metal, Suzu," Minato said faintly. "Your control must have grown again."</p><p>Had it? It must have. Was that unusual? I paused. No, maybe not. I had been learning a lot of sensory enhancement jutsu for my I&amp;E training and those techniques required very minute manipulations to be used in an effective and unobtrusive manner.</p><p>"Well then." Jiraiya rose to his feet. "Minato, I'll borrow your bathroom for a sec. Is your first aid kit still behind the mirror?"</p><p>Minato nodded. "Yes."</p><p>I hastily jumped up and threw myself into a deep bow. "I am so sorry, Jiraiya-sama! Because of me, you—"</p><p>"Oh, stop it, kid." Jiraiya waved his uninjured hand at me. "I knew it would be sharp when I suggested it. I just underestimated how sharp. Serves me right—shinobi who underestimate their opponents get hurt. You're a better kunoichi than I gave you credit for." He grinned in a friendly way, as if trying to assure me there were no hard feelings.</p><p>"You're a talented ninja, Suzu," Minato told me as Jiraiya disappeared into the interior of the house. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me against his midsection in a backwards hug. "I had no idea you could do that."</p><p>"I didn't either," I bewilderedly, putting a hand on his arms.</p><p>"I'd better add in a quick-release mechanism to your seals. If you ever train that technique with an opponent, we might be facing some serious dismemberment."</p><p>"And I'll have to learn how to adjust the cutting power," I added. "That was… really close."</p><p>We both fell silent. Minato and I stood together, quietly calming ourselves, until Jiraiya returned.</p>
<hr/><p>That was the last time in a long time Minato and I stood together without anything between us. If I had known about the mission assignment that had delayed his beer run, that wouldn't have been the case, but Minato only told Jiraiya that his team was being deployed to Kannabi Pass after I left.</p>
<hr/><p>I had been apprenticed at I&amp;E for about nine months, just long enough to celebrate my eleventh birthday with them, when Minato came home from a mission. Team 7 had been dispatched about two weeks ago, so as far as assignments went, it hadn't been a long absence. There had been no indication whatsoever that anything had gone wrong.</p><p>Minato usually went straight home to see Kushina after missions, but today the House was his first destination. Still covered in the dirt and grime of travel, heavy pack still hanging from his back, he stepped inside quietly and left his sandals askew in the genkan. Having heard him with chakra sense from the sitting room, I put down the scrolls I was studying—Oyuki had just started me on a unit about codes, signals, and ciphering—and peered into the hallway.</p><p>Auntie was also there. As she stepped out of the kitchen, beating her hands against her apron, she took a calculating glance at my cousin. Then she said softly, "Just put your things down here in the hall. Souhei shouldn't have drained the bath yet."</p><p>"Suu-nee?" Haruka called as she toddled out of the sitting room after me. She caught sight of Minato in the doorway and squealed. "Mina-nii!"</p><p>Feeling suddenly fearful, I bent down and scooped her up before she could charge at him. I looked at Auntie for guidance and she nodded at me; Minato set down his pack and silently climbed the stairs.</p><p>"It's about bedtime, Suzu," Auntie told me. "Why don't you bring the kids up?"</p><p>My palms felt clammy but I nodded and turned back to my baby cousins scattered across the sitting room. Haruka was with me, but Kouji was still slamming blocks together and Masami and Kaneko were crawling all over the dozing Nodoka.</p><p>"Bedtime, guys," I called softly. Masami and Kaneko came easily enough—I suspected they were bored—but Kouji was completely absorbed. "Kouji, bedtime!"</p><p>It was no small task to put four young children to bed. By the time Kouji could be pried from his blocks the others were antsy. Kaneko decided that, in absence of Nodoka, climbing on me would be the next best thing. Suddenly all four of them decided to latch onto me like little sloths—or leeches—and suddenly I found myself trying to waddle up the stairs with a child on each limb.</p><p>"Kane-chan, please!" I shook my leg while simultaneously trying to pry Masami's fingers from my forearm. Kaneko just giggled and readjusted her grip; Kouji and Haruka seemed to find this hilarious and began laughing with the kind of joy that could only be derived from an elder sister's suffering. I groaned. "Cut it out, you four. Auntie's going to get mad."</p><p>It was a process, but after some cajoling and two more invocations of the wrath of Reiko, the four eventually made it through the nighttime ritual of changing, brushing, and washing before finally getting into bed. By the time we were finished Minato had long since finished his bath and stolen back to the kitchen.</p><p>They were sitting at the table silently holding tea when I returned. I caught sight of Minato's face from the hall and halted.</p><p>"You lost one of them, didn't you?" Auntie asked after another minute or so of silence had passed.</p><p>Mechanically, Minato nodded. There was a long silence as he stared down into the depths of his tea. Then he whispered, "Obito. We lost Obito."</p><p>My heart leapt into my throat, and I held my breath.</p><p>"I see." Auntie put her chin on her fist and sighed. "What happened?"</p><p>"We split the team. I went to reinforce the group pinned down south of Kannabi Pass while Kakashi led the rest of the team to sabotage the Kannabi Bridge. But they encountered the enemy while we were separated, and…" Minato swallowed. "...and there was a cave-in. They were Iwa ninja. I made it back in time to save Kakashi and Rin, but… but Obito…"</p><p>Auntie made a quiet, knowing noise. "But Obito-kun was gone. And you couldn't find his body?"</p><p>Minato let out a little gasp. It was not crying, not exactly, but his breath hitched and his voice came out with a violent waver.</p><p>"I know it's—it's nothing new. It… it happens all the time. And obviously… obviously in the Second War, obasan, your comrades…"</p><p>"I never a lost a student," Auntie replied. "And I never lost the body of anyone close to me. Squad mates, but squads were always changing. Never the body of any of my true friends."</p><p>Minato put his tea down on the table.</p><p>"It's my fault. If I had only come sooner…"</p><p>I brought my hands to my cheeks. A hiccup caught in my throat.</p><p>"Did you delay overlong when you resolved the conflict south of the Pass?" Auntie asked.</p><p>"I—" Minato swallowed. "No, I… I left as soon as the captain had the situation under control."</p><p>"Did you construct plans to reunite with the sabotage team immediately after the battle in the south was resolved?"</p><p>"No, we didn't know how long the skirmish would last, so Kakashi said they'd handle it on their own. But it was too soon for them. I'm their sensei, I shouldn't have—"</p><p>"Did you drag out the fight with the enemy ninja at all?"</p><p>Minato swallowed again. "I could have killed them faster. I played it too safe. I didn't have to use so many physical anchors. I—I wasted too much time on setup."</p><p>Auntie let out a sigh and picked up her tea again. She was quiet for a while. Then she said, "Minato, you're being unrealistic. You're grieving and trying to assign blame. But this sounds like a situation where no blame can be laid. You're not at fault. Don't you agree, Suzu?"</p><p>Minato turned and saw me in the doorway. Automatically he reached out a hand at made to pull me under his arm. But I found that a weight like an anvil was dropping through my chest. I flinched away from his fingers as though they were aflame. I knew without a doubt that I would be on fire the the moment he touched me. The guilt had already soaked me through like gasoline.</p><p>Minato instantly withdrew his hand. Auntie Reiko furrowed her brow at me as my brother swallowed and tangled his fingers in the hem of his shirt. A sudden strange terror seemed to take over his face. Quickly he twitched his lips as though trying to twist them into his usual warm smile, but the effect was impossible to achieve with such a terrible fear lurking in his eyes.</p><p>"I'm sorry!" I squeaked, squeezing my own eyes shut so I wouldn't have to look at him. "I eavesdropped! I shouldn't have! It wasn't my business!"</p><p>"Suzu?" Auntie asked slowly. "What's wrong?"</p><p>"I did a bad thing!" I clutched the hemline of my blouse, hands shaking. "I'm sorry! I—I'll go to my room!"</p><p>I turned on my heel and fled, racing down the hall and up the stairs. They tried to meet my gaze, but I looked away. If they saw my eyes, they would know for certain that Auntie was wrong. There was someone to blame, and it was me.</p>
<hr/><p>Who people are in the dark is a reflection of their true character. As I stared up at the blackened ceiling, that was the thought that was running through my head.</p><p><em>He had information about the enemy that could have saved lives but he refused to report it. </em>Uncle Souhei's face, pale with disgust, appeared in my mind.</p><p><em>He was a coward. He was a traitor</em>. <em>They might still be alive today.</em></p><p>Suppressing the sudden need to let out a disturbed half-laugh, I rolled over in my futon and stared at my darkened image in a nearby mirror. What had Uncle Souhei's traitor looked like, I wondered. Like me? My reflection was all my usual self. Blue eyes. Blond hair. Round face. Pointed chin.</p><p>A part of me still thought it was a story. I was living with my real family and friends every day but it seemed it never occurred to me that Obito was a real person, too. And it never occurred to me that Minato would suffer and blame himself if Obito was gone. Obito had always been Kakashi's background story—that's what my stupid fake memories told me—but obviously that wasn't the case. Obito wasn't just a background story. He was a person.</p><p>I buried my face in my hands. It wasn't a story, but I hadn't wanted to believe, and now Obito was gone. No, it wasn't even that—I had just been scared to say something and risk people thinking I was crazy. I thought that maybe if I didn't think about the impending problems of my foreknowledge, it would all just go away. And now, all because of that meaningless fear, Madara Uchiha had Obito. And Obito was going to lay waste to everything Minato held dear. How could I ever look my brother in the eye again? The Academy instructors were right after all. I was a coward.</p><p>"Suzu-chan, you look awful," Fuyuji said when I arrived in I&amp;E a few days later.</p><p>I glanced down at my clothes and then put a hand on my hair. I had worn this outfit before so something had probably gone wrong while I was braiding this morning. I hadn't had Auntie Reiko's help today, so that probably wasn't a surprise…</p><p>"No, no, not your hair," Fuyuji waved a hand. "Your hair's fine. I mean your face. You look like you haven't slept in a year. What's wrong?"</p><p>I touched a finger to my lower eyelid and frowned at him. What a thing to say to a girl first thing in the morning. Fuyuji gave me an abashed look.</p><p>"Suzu-chan, there you are! You're late." Oyuki appeared behind me.</p><p>I immediately cringed. "My sincerest apologies. Please pardon me."</p><p>Oyuki gave me a look but seemed to show leniency for my extreme keigo. She flicked a finger at me. "Come with me. Naoto-buchou wants to see you. Don't worry," she added. "I don't think it's trouble or anything. You're about due for an Imasaki info session. It's probably going to be something like when he taught you the eavesdropping techniques."</p><p>When we entered his office Naoto was intently working away on what was this universe's equivalent of a braille typewriter. Apparently, his was one of three machines in existence in the whole village; it had been developed by one of the apprentices in R&amp;D. With that said, though, it didn't often see a lot of action. Since braille notes were useless to most everyone outside of I&amp;E, he usually dictated to Anzu instead. Failing that, he would often just take a chance and write freehand. Even seven years blind his muscle memory could write most characters.</p><p>"Thank you, Oyuki-san." Naoto nodded in her direction.</p><p>"Anytime, buchou."</p><p>Naoto left me standing for a few moments before he sat back from the typewriter and pulled the paper out. He took a cursory scan of it with his fingertips before nodding to himself and setting it aside.</p><p>"Sorry about that," Naoto addressed me. "Oyuki-san said you were delayed so I thought I'd have enough time to finish up before you came."</p><p>I found myself cringing into keigo again. "My sincerest apologies."</p><p>Naoto tilted his head at me curiously. "Are you feeling well, Misuzu-san? If you're ill you shouldn't come to work, you know."</p><p>I felt my shoulders hunch defensively. Was I really that much of a wreck? Was it really at the point that a blind man could tell just by hearing my voice? I blew out a sigh. "No, I'm all right. I'm just a little tired today."</p><p>"I understand," the I&amp;E head replied graciously even though it was clear he didn't believe me in the least. He motioned me closer. "Have a seat. I've been meaning to ask you about this for a little while now—how much do you know about chakra sensitivity?"</p><p>I blinked, surprised. "Chakra sensitivity?" That wasn't the direction I had been expecting this conversation to go at all.</p><p>"Yes." Naoto smiled at me. "This has been my suspicion for a little while now, but… are you perhaps chakra sensitive, Misuzu-san?"</p><p>"I…" I fumbled. "I mean, I never was formally classified, but…?"</p><p>"But you hear things? I assume you're an auditory sensor."</p><p>"How did you know?" I asked, surprised again. It seemed Naoto would never stop startling me with his untraceable leaps of logic.</p><p>"No particular reason beyond the fact that auditory sensors are the most common type." Naoto chuckled. "I'm an auditory sensor myself."</p><p>That explained his prescience around hallway corners. He was making up for his blindness with extra sensory skills.</p><p>"Auditory sensors are common?" I asked, weariness temporarily suspended by a nascent curiosity.</p><p>"I'd say they make up the majority of most sensitives. The other four sensing types are visual, olfactory, tactile, and gustatory. One for each of the five classical senses. Konoha has a large population, so I think we have a few of each kind here (1)."</p><p>Despite my hard efforts not to think of him, the image of Minato appeared in my mind. He was a sensor. Was he an auditory type too? He often heard us coming even when we were ages away. But there were also times when he would press his finger to the ground… (2)</p><p>"Oh, if that's the case, he might be both," Naoto replied when I asked. "It's not impossible to train oneself in multiple types of sensing. Or he may have been born with both abilities. Some people are like that. You could liken it to being ambidextrous."</p><p>I swallowed. Minato really was a born prodigy. And to a brother like that, I…</p><p>"It's a good combination. Auditory sense is excellent for identifying personal chakra signatures as well as reserve intensity and jutsu use, but tactile sensors far surpass auditory sensors in ability to determine the location and number of individuals. And unlike us hearing-types, their sensing accuracy isn't as hampered across long distances."</p><p>As was his way, Naoto continued to inform me about the particulars of chakra sensors in a mild, unpretentious voice. In a way it reminded me of the college lecturers the girl from Earth had known while she had been in school. It was helpful to know more about the nature of sensing abilities. But then some minutes later the urgent clamor of a shunshin at the door caused Naoto and me to pause. An anxious knock soon followed.</p><p>"Anzu, what is it?" Naoto asked as his younger half-sister burst in through the door. Though he couldn't see, she held up a scroll.</p><p>"It's here," she said heavily. "It's a notice from Missions Administration."</p><p>"Missions Administration?" I asked blankly. Naoto immediately brought up a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose.</p><p>"You probably haven't heard yet, Misuzu-san, but Missions Administration is going through all the noncombat divisions and snatching away members to bolster military operations," he explained to me. "Apparently casualties were unprecedented this rotation. Anzu, please go ahead and read it for me. It's a list of transfers, isn't it?"</p><p>Anzu broke the seal on the scroll and pulled it open. I watched in anticipatory silence as she scanned the missive furiously. Then she sighed.</p><p>"It's a list of transfers. Names and new positions," she announced despondently.</p><p>"How bad?"</p><p>"Thirteen in total," she informed.</p><p>Naoto's brow furrowed harshly and I did a wild calculation in my head. At present there were about twenty-two active members in I&amp;E. Subtracting thirteen shinobi from that would leave Infiltration and Espionage operating with a skeleton crew of nine people. They were taking away over half the unit.</p><p>"That's absurd," Naoto replied with shock. "Do they intend on gutting all of Intel? I was expecting to lose people as well, but thirteen of us... Cryptography and Domestic Affairs lost thirty combined yesterday. At this rate Konoha will become completely unable to gather internal intelligence."</p><p>"Do you want to know who's leaving?" Anzu asked quietly.</p><p>Naoto let out a forceful exhale. "I'll have to sooner or later," he said. "Go ahead."</p><p>I sat by quietly as she began to read off the names. Fuyuji was leaving. Narumi and Sayo were also leaving. A great deal seemed to be moving into positions in the Ordnance Corps, but it looked like some were also being used to plug holes in the general platoons. Naoto's expression darkened with each name listed until he was perilously close to scowling.</p><p>"And Misuzu Namikaze," Anzu finished, looking at me with upset plain on her face. I started.</p><p>"And to whom are we losing our first apprentice in over half a decade?" Naoto asked with barely-concealed scorn. Anzu looked down at the scroll again.</p><p>"Transfer to fill an open position in the general platoons," she read. "Hereby reassigned to Team 7, commanded by the jounin Minato Namikaze."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Notes:</p><p>1. "Konoha has a large population, so I think we have a few of each kind here."</p><p>Auditory sensors are a dime-a-dozen; many clanless shinobi are hearing-type sensors. Tactile sensors are similar in frequency to auditory sensors, but are slightly less common. Olfactory sensors exist primarily in the Inuzuka clan; the same goes for visual sensors in the Uchiha and the Hyuuga clans. I do not think there are any natural-born taste-type sensors in Konoha, but there are a few shinobi in ANBU and T&amp;I who have trained themselves in gustatory chakra sensing.</p><p>2. ...there were also times when he would press his finger to the ground…</p><p>You can actually see Minato detecting both the presence and number of enemy shinobi with this method in the first part of the Kakashi Chronicles ~ Boys' Life on the Battlefield ~ episodes.</p><p>As a side note, Minato really likes people to believe that he was born "ambidextrous" (as Suzu automatically assumes he is). He feels it adds to his image of excellence. In reality, though, he's only a common hearing-type, just like 50% of all other chakra sensitives. He learned tactile sensing on his own in private and began passing himself off as a natural touch-type sensor around the age of twelve. You can get a sense of the young age his distorted self-image issues began, huh?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Wreath of Briars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Dear Suzu,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>How are you lately? It's been a while since I last wrote. Have you been worried about your good friend Jiraiya? Never fear. I am in good health, and I have better news than that besides: I've found them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Genjutsu was the name of the game here. Fearsome genjutsu, too, the kind that retroactively messes with your memory. Turns out I've actually located them several times over in the past few months, but their wards were screwing me up. Half of conversations I'd had with those street rats probably weren't even real. Well, at least now I know I can still track something down when I need to. I was getting worried I was losing my touch.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The problem now is that I've been back and forth here so many times that the sentries are bound to recognize me. Getting in won't be easy, so at present I've retreated and have set up base in a city a few miles away. From here I'll have to plot my next move carefully.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'll be sticking around a while and I've got a few friends here, so if you'd like to write back, you can give it a shot. Address it Kitaru of Washi-gai and it'll find its way to me. Make sure you tell me about how things with are going with you, too. Until then.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your friend,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jiraiya</em>
</p><hr/><p>The day before the transfers took effect was a miserable one. Over half the desks in the office had been stripped naked, and the colorful whiteboards and baubles I'd come to enjoy seeing had been wiped clean or removed. The snack table was empty of everything but a single package of senbei, and the room felt cold and empty.</p><p>As if trying to combat the cold atmosphere, we all clustered in the center of the room and sat close together. Those without chairs perched on desks or sat on the floor. At first we were all silent.</p><p>"When the war ends, I'll come back here," Fuyuji said quietly. We turned to look at him. "When these reassignments are over I'll transfer right back. Wait for me. Don't give my post away."</p><p>"We'll wait for you," Naoto replied softly. Though yesterday he had been shocked and angry, today the head of I&amp;E was as unshakable as ever. His grip on his cane was loose and relaxed.</p><p>"We'll come back, too," a pair of Yamanaka cousins piped up. A flurry of promises to return rose from the group.</p><p>"So will we."</p><p>"And us! We'll come back!"</p><p>"Yeah. Wait for us, too, buchou."</p><p>"I will wait for all of you," Naoto vowed. But as he said it a terrible sadness began to color the air. Even if the promises were not empty, they were groundless. The ones who were leaving were going to the war. No one could really know if he would return.</p><p>"And you will come back, too," Oyuki said forcefully as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders. "You'll practice every day and study all the scrolls I gave you. You'll maintain your appearance even when the others sneer at you. And then you'll return here to finish your apprenticeship."</p><p>I swallowed thickly as others began to chime their agreement. Naoto turned his head and looked me in the eye—or seemed to look at me, anyway. Sometimes he made it so hard to remember he was blind.</p><p>"That's right, Misuzu-san. We'll wait for you especially. You chose to come to I&amp;E when nobody else did. You'll always have a place here."</p><p>My lip began to quiver. "Thank you, Naoto-san," I replied.</p><hr/><p>"There is no place for you on this team."</p><p>Two weeks post the destruction of the Kannabi Bridge, Kakashi Hatake was half a month healed and half a month more broken. Everything about him was raw and jagged. He looked nothing like the man in the Earth-girl's memories; he was stiff, straight-backed, and his speech was clipped and harsh. He had not yet begun to tilt his hitai-ate in his signature way, either. White bandages covered his left eye instead.</p><p>"Kakashi," Minato admonished. He put a hand on my head, more brotherly than ever. He seemed content to pretend that our previous encounter had never happened and his acting reflected that admirably. I wished the same could have been said for me; I didn't know how to look him in the eye anymore.</p><p>"It's true, Sensei," Kakashi argued. "Even if she is your little sister there's no way she's capable of surviving on the front lines. Just look at her."</p><p>It had always been the case that Intel workers and other "indoors" shinobi were regarded with disdain for their clean and less-worn equipment. That was doubly true in a time of war. Field shinobi wore their dirt and grime nearly as proudly as they wore their scars.</p><p>I picked at the hem of my skirt with silent contemplation. Even though I was no longer under Fuyuji's and Oyuki's keen eyes, after Oyuki's speech yesterday, I couldn't find it in me to go back to wearing the blocky standard-cut uniform; instead, I continued to use the clothes I'd sewn with Fuyuji's help. Even so, it was not an ostentatious outfit by any means. It was a sturdy, functional skirt, full enough not to be constricting and short enough not to get in the way. Compared to many chuunin, who did not even wear the uniform, it was positively orthodox. Of the students on Team Minato, in fact, I was the only one wearing a vest.</p><p>"That's not true at all, Kakashi. Suzu has returned from the front lines twice now. She came from an excellent team and she trains all the time. I can guarantee her skills to you."</p><p>How was it that Minato could recommend me so heartily? Was it because of the incident with Jiraiya? Did he really mean it, or was he just trying to look after me? I couldn't say.</p><p>Evidently Kakashi couldn't decide either. He continued to eye me skeptically.</p><p>"Let's just give it a try for a little while, Kakashi," Rin interjected with a conciliatory gesture. "We haven't even seen her fight yet. If Sensei says so she must be capable."</p><p>Though her brow was still creased and heavy with sorrow she aimed a welcoming smile at me. Something in it reminded me of Anzu, and I felt a little more reassured, so I was able to smile back.</p><p>To his credit, Kakashi did not blow up at me on the first or even the second day of my reassignment. In fact, he did his utmost to ignore me entirely, and that was probably the best one could ask for considering the circumstances. But while one can ignore a teammate during individual exercises, it is impossible to ignore her during team drills, and the third day was the day that team drills began.</p><p>"What is wrong with you?" An angry exhale exploded through his nostrils as a ball dropped for the fourth time. "Academy students can do this exercise better than you!"</p><p>It was a very basic coordination task—nothing more than a group juggling exercise. There had been a time where Team 11 had done this activity one-handed, blindfolded, and with legs tied together. We probably could have done while half-unconscious, too. But with Team 7 it was different. They had a different rhythm and they were taller than I was used to my teammates being. The speed at which they threw was different, too; Rin pitched slow with minimal spin, similar to Yoshiya, but Kakashi's throws were straighter and faster than even Akihiko's most energetic tosses.</p><p>"I'm sorry," I mumbled, willing the muscle memory of my previous squad to leave my body. "I'm still adjusting. Please be patient with me."</p><p>"Sensei," Kakashi called, ignoring me. "This is pointless. She's not coordinating. What can a kid like this contribute to Team 7? She's useless to us."</p><p>Even though Kakashi was still a kid himself, the venom in his voice made me flinch. Minato let out a sigh and attempted to diffuse the situation.</p><p>"That's not true, Kakashi," he repeated. "Suzu's a very skillful and competent kunoichi. Just give her a chance to learn your movements; she'll pick it up quickly. I told you she came from a good team, right? They were top of their year."</p><p>Kakashi snorted.</p><p>"It's true, Kakashi. By the time of their dissolution they had at least seven commendations."</p><p>This seemed to impress Rin slightly and she shot me a faintly admiring look. Kakashi, however, only cocked an eyebrow at me.</p><p>"The top team?" he asked coldly. "I've never heard of them. Where are they now?"</p><p>Silence rolled over the field. Minato's placating pose stiffened while Rin's hand slowly rose to cover her mouth. I lifted my eyes incredulously.</p><p>"Commendations mean nothing. What matters is results. If they couldn't even look after themselves, how could you claim their skills were worth anything?" Kakashi pressed.</p><p>"Kakashi!" Rin gasped.</p><p>"Kakashi, you know that's not how things work during war," Minato's voice immediately took on a hard edge. "You don't know anything about Team 11 or their circumstances. They also lost one of their members—you're speaking ill of the dead."</p><p>"That's unrelated," Kakashi contradicted. He turned a cold eye on me, and his glare felt like it could cut through flesh and bone. The sand-filled balls we had been juggling tumbled into the grass. "What disrespects the dead is trying shove an incompetent stranger into a comrade's place."</p><p>"Kakashi, let's just give it a little more time." Rin twisted her fingers together anxiously. "I'm sure Suzu-chan will find her footing soon. You don't need to bring her old team into this."</p><p>Grief often made people cruel. I knew this quite well; after being on a team with Akihiko, how couldn't I? But knowing that didn't soften Kakashi's hostility. Just as Akihiko's anger had still hurt me, Kakashi's words pried keenly at a wound that had only just begun to heal.</p><p>At this point Minato decided that team exercises needed a break. It was just as well; we weren't making any progress and it was only straining our nerves. Instead he decided that some round-robin sparring matches would be suitable to finish the day. Judging by the initial pair-ups of Suzu versus Rin and Kakashi versus Minato, he was probably looking to vent some of Kakashi's ire via some good, old-fashioned fistfighting.</p><p>Rin's weakest skill was taijutsu by far. She seemed to be very aware of this and spent most of our fight trying to keep me at a distance with thrown weapons. She certainly had a talent for bending trajectories; she kept me on my feet by throwing shuriken in my blind spots at every turn. I was heavily reminded of Yoshiya, who had done just the same thing in fights where ninjutsu had been barred.</p><p>Upon remembering this I found myself becoming incredibly sad. It was all so familiar that I could almost pretend that I was back with my old team, running around on the field with games of tag and hide-and-go-seek just an afternoon away. But after a while other memories began to stir in me, too; formations and strategies began to rise from the recesses of my mind. In those days I had relied on many methods to bypass Yoshiya's games of keep-away—feints, substitutions, clones…</p><p>I was no taijutsu prodigy, but I had spent the entirety of my childhood doing my best to keep up with one. I broke through, and Rin was so startled by my sudden aggression that I was actually able to catch her arm behind her back on my first approach.</p><p>"Wow," Rin exclaimed as we reset our position and made the seal of reconciliation with one another. "You're fast, Suzu-chan! Just like Sensei."</p><p>I was so startled that I laughed aloud. "I wish! It will take years before I can even begin to approach Minato-nii's speed. There's still a long way to go to catch up to him."</p><p>Rin smiled at me again. She was bright and cheerful, but something about her was grounded and practical, too. Warm, but still down-to-earth. She was very likable indeed.</p><p>"So are you taijutsu-focused?" Rin asked eagerly, seeming to forget all of the afternoon's slip-ups and frustrations. "Do you know any medical jutsu at all? You don't look like a ninjutsu type…"</p><p>I smiled and opened my mouth to tell her that no, I didn't know any iryou-ninjutsu, and that I had been my team's all-arounder, but in that moment there was sudden blip at the edge of my awareness. I sharpened to attention. I had felt that blip before. It was the same feeling as when we had been attacked—</p><p>It happened in a flash. I barely had the time to raise an arm to block, and the blow hit me so hard that it pushed me onto my knees. His kick was as fast as any of Akihiko's best strikes—faster, even. I let out a gasp as my shoulder creaked in its socket; the air displaced by his movement sent my braids flipping past my face and my skirt flaring out behind me.</p><p>"Kakashi!" Minato's and Rin's voices rose in simultaneous shock.</p><p>Kakashi bore down on me with silent, singular focus, like a hawk diving in to kill. He gave no indication that he had heard them; he only spun a kunai into his hand and made me the pinpoint of his gaze. His intention was clear. The next strike would be true, and he wanted to test if I could withstand it.</p><p>I flicked my eyes to the blade in his hand. His stare was unhesitating. That knife would gore me if I let it.</p><p>Flaring chakra in my limbs, I pivoted away as quickly as they could propel me; simultaneously, I drew from my kunai holster and brought it up to parry. The irregular weight of Minato's kunai fit itself into my palm, and I flipped it into a reverse grip, letting the flat of the blade rest against my forearm for a stronger deflection. I braced my back leg just in time to meet a titanic downward strike. I felt the soil beneath the soles of my sandals compress.</p><p>When Kakashi and I met eyes time seemed to stop for a long moment. I glimpsed something dark churning in his gaze. There was a strange, abyss-like despair in his eye, and something about it seemed desperate. Like if he could just hit me hard enough—if he could just strike this change into the ground—then everything that was wrong might become right again.</p><p>And then the moment passed. Minato's hand was fisted in the back of Kakashi's collar before the boy had time to put his feet on the ground. My cousin did not speak, but the force of his presence was enough to halt all hostilities. Kakashi landed in a stance of resignation.</p><p>"We're done for today," Minato said softly. He did not release Kakashi's shirt. "Suzu, Rin, good work. You're dismissed. Kakashi… we need to talk."</p><p>It became abundantly clear that their conversation would not start until we left, so I rose from my half-crouched position. When I stepped away the imprint of my feet was visible in the ground, and my limbs were still trembling from the force. I put a shaking hand on the back of my neck and began to walk away. I couldn't find it in me to look back at them as I left.</p><hr/><p>"Sensei," Akihiko called.</p><p>"Hmm?" Itsuki-sensei looked up—or down, rather—from the scroll he was reading. Usually when we did tree climbing and hanging exercises he would read. Though these training sessions required a fair amount of exertion on our parts they were so inconsequential to him that he probably could have slept through any of them.</p><p>"Are you in a good mood today?" my clanmate grinned, waving his fingers. Yoshiya perked up and gave Sensei a hopeful look.</p><p>"Maybe." Itsuki-sensei put on an expression of indifference, but even across the distance I could see the faint twitching of his lips. I giggled. He was in a good mood.</p><p>"Do something!" Akihiko took stock of my laughter and waved his arms exuberantly. "Do the leaf thing again!"</p><p>"Again? Aren't you tired of these party tricks by now?" Itsuki-sensei laughed and tucked his book into his belt. In contrast to his words, though, he was already drawing a stack of senbon from his pouch.</p><p>"We're not!" Yoshiya declared with conviction. He fixed Sensei with his best entreating eyes.</p><p>"It won't be long before you all will figure this out for yourselves, you know," Itsuki-sensei muttered, but obligingly fitted the long needles between his fingers. Then in a blink of an eye he was throwing, and between one breath and the next Konoha's emblem was proudly displayed on the trunk of the tree across from us. And then, as if in an afterthought, Itsuki-sensei spotted a falling leaf and threw a single needle to finish it off. It landed dead in the center of the mon, pinned and fluttering lightly.</p><p>"Man, you don't need ninjutsu to do that," Akihiko sighed admiringly.</p><p>"'Course not. If it did, a blockhead like you wouldn't even be able to dream of doing it," Yoshiya challenged from his tree branch. Akihiko's eyes lit up.</p><p>"Wanna bet, bandana boy?" he shot back. He began rolling up his sleeves.</p><p>I laughed and turned to share a look with Itsuki-sensei. But all of a sudden he was gone and the branches around me were empty. Startled, I fell silent, but there was nothing but birdsong in the air. It was just me and the late summer sunlight filtering through the canopy.</p><p>For a moment I could only hang from the tree in bewilderment. But then my mind caught up with the present and I remembered where I was. This was not Team 11's training grounds—this was only the village outskirts. I'd taken a meandering walk on my day off and ended up climbing a tree to enjoy the good weather. Between now and then I'd started dangling from a branch, and at some point had gotten caught up remembering a scene from the early days of my genin team.</p><p>How melancholy. Being back on a platoon was evidently bringing many past memories to the forefront of my mind. I let my arms drop and stared down at the verdant bush below me. How quickly those days had gone. We hadn't even been together as a team for half a year.</p><p>"Suzu-chan?"</p><p>I blinked. A faint choir of handbells had begun to ring in my ears, but they were far too distant to be anywhere near—</p><p>Rin was peering up at me from the forest floor. She was dressed in casual clothes and sturdy-looking gloves. She had a basket full of purple-flowered plants in one hand and a pair of gardening shears in the other.</p><p>"It is you, Suzu-chan!" she exclaimed as I regarded her with shock. She was so quiet. Her chakra had been suppressed so fully that I had thought she'd been ages away.</p><p>"Hello," I greeted rather dumbly. "I… what are you doing?"</p><p>"Me? I'm gathering plants for medicine. There's a lot of wolfsbane growing in this area, so I thought I'd help myself. There's milk thistles, too."</p><p>Something in my alternate Earth memories seemed to realize that wolfsbane was used in a lot of Chinese medicine, so I didn't feel wholly surprised to hear an iryou-nin was gathering some of it on her day off. Milk thistles, though, I knew nothing about.</p><p>"What are milk thistles used for?" I asked after I'd dropped from the tree and landed beside her. Rin gave me a thoughtful look.</p><p>"Well, they have a couple of uses, but right now I'm gathering them because there's been a rash of death cap poisonings at the hospital." She fixed me with a serious look. "Don't eat wild mushrooms if you're not one hundred percent confident in your identification. Milk thistles are only really good for supportive treatment—if they live, most of those people will require liver transplants."</p><p>That was slightly frightening. Not for me specifically—I didn't really eat mushrooms—but I knew several of my younger cousins liked mushroom hunting. I made a mental note to warn them when I went back home.</p><p>"Is it okay to store those with wolfsbane? Isn't it pretty poisonous?" I asked, looking with concern at her basket. Rin smiled and brought an empty cloth pouch out of her pocket.</p><p>"I have a separate bag for the milk thistles. I haven't started gathering them yet." As if sensing I'd come out here without a purpose, she smiled and suggested, "Why don't you come along? Learning the proper method for gathering plants can be pretty beneficial to everyone, not just medics. I'm sure it'll be useful for you."</p><p>I had no reason to refuse, so I fell into step with her and we began walking farther into the forest. We were silent for a few minutes—me because I didn't know what to say, she because she looked like she had something weighty on her mind.</p><p>"Suzu-chan…" she began after a long moment.</p><p>I looked at her attentively. "Yes?"</p><p>"Kakashi isn't a bad person, you know."</p><p>My eyebrows shot up. Were we jumping in from there?</p><p>"Really, he isn't!" she insisted, taking my look of surprise for doubt. "I mean it. He's… he's just upset that our old teammate is being replaced and he's taking his frustration out on you. It's not his fault… but it's not yours, either."</p><p>Her words brought a weak smile to my face. Of course she would say that. Who wouldn't? Could anyone have cause to believe I had known what would happen to Obito?</p><p>"Please don't think badly of him. I know it's hard because he's been so nasty to you, but…" Her brow was furrowed but her expression was earnest. I twisted my fingers together and looked away. Somehow I felt I didn't deserve to be looked at with such an honest gaze.</p><p>"It's okay. I believe you," I said, staring at my feet. Out of the corner of my eye, Rin looked both hopeful and skeptical at the same time, so forced myself to make eye contact. "No, really I do. I know Hatake-senpai isn't a bad person. He's just…" I searched for the words. "He's just not himself at the moment," I concluded.</p><p>A look of relief flooded Rin's face. "Is that so?" she asked with a big smile. "I'm glad."</p><p>I looked away again and began to feel that this conversation was painful. It was hard to be looked at with such geniality by someone who I had wronged so terribly. After all, Rin was a person, too, and she had been friends with Obito just as Kakashi had.</p><p>Rin's smiled faded a bit. A cluster of purple flowers was blooming at the edge of the path, so we stopped and began rifling through the grass.</p><p>"...I guess being on Team 7 really is hard for you, isn't it?" Rin asked softly a few moments later. "If… if my team was broken up and I was put on another squad, I would be miserable."</p><p>"That's…" I trailed, not knowing how to respond. That's true, I wanted to say. But it was also deserved. It seemed to me that cowards didn't deserve happy assignments and cheerful relationships. If I was unhappy because I was being bullied, or because I had been taken away from my apprenticeship, or because being on a platoon seemed to stir up my old traumas, it was only right. In the end none of those things could make up for what I hadn't done.</p><p>"I know it probably doesn't help to hear it from someone like me, but if you ever need help, or if you want someone to talk to, I'll definitely be here," Rin told me ardently. "Since we're on a team together now we should rely on each other. We can't take the place of your old friends, but… but if it's all right with you, I'd like to be a new friend."</p><p>"I…" I swallowed. Rin put down her plants, pulled off her gloves, and took my hands in hers.</p><p>"Okay?" she asked.</p><p>"Okay," I whispered back. "Thank you, Nohara-senpai."</p><p>Rin immediately blushed. "Don't call me senpai," she murmured, embarrassed. "Rin is fine."</p><p>"...Rin-san, then?" The familiar address bit savagely at my conscience, but how could one refuse to comply with such earnestness?</p><p>"Rin," Rin replied firmly. "Just Rin. Teammates are family, too, even when it doesn't seem like it."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Bloody Threads</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning: graphic violence.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Eh?" I stared blankly at my foster mother.</p><p>"How was your day today?" she repeated. "Did you find what you were looking for at the store? And did the fitting go well?"</p><p>"Oh, I—" I waved a hand and opened my mouth to begin a blasé recount of the day's mundanities, but then I stopped. And then I shut my mouth and sat back on my legs, frowning.</p><p>I couldn't remember. Certainly I had gone to a specialty store today to find chakra conductive wire. And, thinking carefully, I also must have gone to get my child-sized chuunin vest upgraded to a slightly larger size, because right now it was gone and not hanging in its customary spot. Just to check myself, I idly slipped a hand into my pocket and pulled out a receipt. Yes, I had done these tasks today. But the contents of those activities were absent to me. I couldn't recall a thing about the trip to the store or the time while I was being fitted.</p><p>"Suzu?" Auntie Reiko said my name again, eyebrows beginning to rise. I furrowed my brow openly and spent a long moment trying to recollect the day's happenings, but my mind seemed to fog over. And then, after another moment of trying, I suddenly felt like it didn't matter if I remembered or not. I looked at her and then made a sheepish face.</p><p>"Sorry, I got distracted," I said. "I was fine today. Kind of busy—seems like a big blur… but everything that needed to get done got done, so I can't complain."</p><p>It was strange how easily such a convincing deflection broke forth from me, but as Auntie sat back and made a noise of understanding, I realized that I had been trained to deflect like that. It had been in my conversation practice with Oyuki—taking a kernel of truth and spinning it into a substantive reply, not lying and not necessarily deceiving, but still obscuring certain details. Everything out of my mouth just now had been true, after all. I had been distracted. It had been busy. And the day really was a big blur—big enough that I couldn't remember it. But my purchases had been made and my vest was out of the house so my goals had been accomplished. And if that was the case there wasn't anything to complain about, at least as far as the day's task list was concerned. My sudden patchy recall was another matter, but Auntie hadn't asked about that—she'd only asked about my day.</p><p>Feeling somewhat buoyed by the fact that I had managed to dodge her questions without having to lie, I cheered up that evening and spent a pleasant time catching up with my cousins. The stars had aligned and produced a miraculous evening in which every single one of my agemates was home early, so the four of us—plus the slightly older Tenrou and Nodoka, who brought us to six—sat down together on the floor and began swapping catch-up stories. The girls eventually found their way into a hair-braiding train, and the boys shrugged and began giving one other unnecessarily forceful shoulder massages. I had gained a lot of expertise in hairdressing so I found myself at the end of the line.</p><p>"And then Tenrou sprang up and cut off his arm," Nodoka finished with a sweeping gesture. She and Tenrou were the rare case of two clanmates who had managed to find their way onto the same genin team and then promote at the same time into a chuunin squad. She was a genjutsu-type and he was a kenjutsu specialist; they had been together for their entire ninja careers and had not yet managed to lose one another, which sent a surprisingly acute bolt of envy lancing through my heart.</p><p>"Wow, Tenrou-nii," Jinta said admiringly. Though Tenrou was only thirteen and still a baby to the older shinobi on his eight-man chuunin squad, he seemed to puff up into a proper man when a younger brother looked up at him. Tenrou cleared his throat and sat back with a look of pride. Nodoka began to chortle.</p><p>Among the six of us I was the only other chuunin. Akira, Chiharu, and Jinta were still genin, as they ought to have been. Akira had lost one of his teammates, but they'd filled the spot at the beginning of the same rotation that had put me with Team 7. Chiharu and Jinta still had their original teams intact.</p><p>"How are things with you, Suzu? Aren't you on Minato-nii's team?" I was regarded with several wistful looks. Minato's popularity among House children was unassailable even now.</p><p>"Oh, it's…" I made a vague motion with my hand. "It's… busy. We've been running a lot of short-term missions outside the village, and honestly I don't even see Minato-nii much on those assignments because we always end up splitting the team. But apparently that's normal when you have two jounin in a platoon."</p><p>"Aw, what is with that?" Jinta complained on my behalf. "On a team with niichan but not even being able to see him? That's the worst."</p><p>My feelings in response to that were mixed so I was silent for some time. After a moment my foster siblings went quiet, too, because in the end they were my family and they knew me. They weren't oblivious to the fact that things weren't well on Team 7. They didn't know the details, of course, but they still <em>knew</em>.</p><p>But after a while Akira spoke up about his last mission and conversation was flowing again. I shot him a grateful look and he smiled shyly in reply.</p><p>"All right, kids, that's probably enough for now," Auntie commented as she came through from the kitchen an hour or so later. Startled, we looked to the clock and found that it was nearly eleven thirty. For children who often had to rise by five AM, this was horrible news, and we all began scrambling to get upstairs and seize as many minutes of sleep as were left in the night. I was privately shocked that Auntie had let it go on so long.</p><p>But mothers know the needs of their children. Even if I had pulled off a deflection that would have made Oyuki proud, Auntie Reiko could tell I was craving for positive interaction; the support I was used to having on Team 11, after all, was nowhere to be found in the current Team 7. Though Kakashi had not attacked me since the disastrous team training session, he was making no effort to play nice—and as it so happened, he had very venomous wit. I had never considered myself as particularly self-loathing by nature, but somehow it seemed that his lack of regard for me was becoming a kind of lack of regard for myself. These days it was hard to even catch sight of myself and not experience a significant sensation of anticipatory scorn. The worst of everything, though, was the fact that I was feeling more and more that I deserved to live like this.</p><p>There was a flurry of clothes-changing and teeth-brushing. In record time the six of us were back in the hall and wishing one another good night. Nodoka and Tenrou exchanged an absentminded fistbump and Jinta slung a sleepy arm around Akira's shoulder. Then the boys departed for their bedroom, and we for ours. We went without knowing when we would have the chance to spend such an evening together again, if we ever did at all.</p>
<hr/><p>My strange forgetfulness seemed to recur rather than to cease. It occurred to me that something was wrong and that a conversation with Hayato-sensei was becoming more and more warranted, but the more I thought of it the less I wanted it to happen. If some terrible psychotic diagnosis came out, all the manner of unhappy and unpleasant things would happen. I did not need that kind of stress right now. Auntie and Uncle certainly didn't either—and heaven forbid Team 7's mission capacity be affected by it. Just imagining Kakashi's reaction was enough to be a trauma all in its own. I was thoroughly convinced that things on the team would be much better if I just kept a lid on it.</p><p>(Of course, that particular piece of rationalisation worked out as well for me as it did for any shinobi evading medical attention.)</p><p>"Suzu!" Minato gasped as my concentration broke and I plummeted into the waters of the lake. Luckily it had not yet cooled overmuch, so there was no great shock of cold, but the moment water rushed over me was so surreal that I was unable to do anything but stare blankly through the rush of air and bubbles. Minato had to plunge his arm in to the shoulder to pull me up out of the depths.</p><p>"Are you okay?" he asked as I restabilized my chakra and began hacking out great globs of lakewater. My eyes began to stream with the violence of my coughing, but after a moment I was gathered enough to nod my head.</p><p>Minato sat back on his haunches with a sigh of relief. And then his face melted again into concern, eyebrows pulling forward and lips turning downward.</p><p>"You're not okay."</p><p>Confused but still too out of breath to talk, I looked down at myself and began running my hands over my limbs to check for any missed injuries. Minato shook his head.</p><p>"That's not what I mean. Why didn't you answer the summons? I sent the hawk out nearly twenty minutes ago."</p><p>"What?" I managed to croak. I turned my head upwards when he pointed and the sight of a brown messenger hawk circling in the sky met my eyes. It flew its pattern, screeched, and then flew its pattern again. Orders: gather. General Forces: general platoon. Call: Team 7. Location: main gates.</p><p>"Oh my gosh." I put a disbelieving hand on my forehead and then dragged it down my dripping face. Small mercy I hadn't tried to do makeup things today. Some distant part of me registered that the shit I had just landed in would have been just that much worse with cosmetics bleeding down my face.</p><p>"Was Kakashi really that bad yesterday?" Minato's face was concerned. "Rin told me a bit about it, but…"</p><p>"Yesterday?" I asked dumbly. As was not unusual, a blank came up when I checked my memory. There had been independent team training or something. By logic Kakashi would have been there, but had something gone on?</p><p>If possible Minato's face increased in worry. "Don't worry about the summons for now. I think I need to take you in," he said, gently taking my elbow. Any stupor I had been in immediately dissipated at those words.</p><p>"No, don't," I said, shaking him off and standing up. "Absolutely don't. Let's hurry before they have to wait any longer."</p><p>"But you can't go out for a mission like this. Just look at you."</p><p>I looked at myself. My reflection in the water was slightly disrupted by ripples, but it was still a clear image: I looked like a drowned cat. There were laughably dark circles under my eyes. I didn't look like the sort of kunoichi ready go on a mission at all.</p><p>And then I felt so angry and fed up that chakra I didn't know I could muster was swirling in my hands. A Great Breakthrough burst up around me, pushing up and outwards, and water flew away from us like a whirling waterspout. Minato lifted a hand to shield his face from the spray. When everything had settled down my clothes and hair had mostly dried, though some dampness remained in my shoes and under my vest. Minato sighed in resignation.</p><p>"You shouldn't have expended that much chakra." He shook his head and turned back towards the shore. "This mission will be intensive. Much more so than anything we've done in these past weeks."</p><p>"Then it's just as well we leave now," I muttered, turning my face away. "Is it extended time? I need to grab my kit."</p><p>"No need." He tossed a scroll my way. "I got it for you."</p><p>As we made our way out from the trees and began hopping across rooftops towards the gates, I unsealed my pack and slung it over my shoulders. Minato kept half an eye on me as I went, possibly to catch me in case I had another sudden chakra failure and fell off a building. Abruptly I felt like even more of a failure as a shinobi than ever.</p><p>"Where the hell have you been?" Kakashi rounded on me the moment we arrived. Too ashamed to even speak, I just sunk into the deepest, lowest bow I could make, and stayed there.</p><p>"Leave it, Kakashi." Minato held up a hand. His brother-face was beginning to melt and give way to his commander-face. "I'll deal with her after the mission is over. Focus on yourself right now. Are we ready?"</p><p>He received nods from the two other gathered squads. Realizing that I had held up a mission twelve of whole people made me want to wilt more completely than I had ever wanted to wilt before. Considering how many withering stares I had received from Kakashi in the last week alone, that was saying something.</p><p>There was minimal delay before we checked out at the gate and departed for the trees. Rin fell into step with me as we began leaping through the branches and brought me up to speed on everything I had missed in the mission briefing. Team 7, one of the few remaining units with a jounin pair, had been selected to lead a special task force behind Iwa lines to strike what the village hoped to be one of the final blows against Hidden Rock. Under their joint command, we were intended to group with two squads from the Ordnance Corps and take out one one of their major bases on the Iwa-Kusa border. It was a stronghold preventing our forces from advancing into Earth Country territory, and disabling their operations would be crucial if we hoped to finally end the Third Shinobi World War.</p><p>I considered that itinerary briefly before coming to the conclusion that absolutely nothing in it corresponded with my skill set. Minato and Kakashi, obviously, were the commanders, so that made them indispensable. Likewise, the Ordnance Corps teams were necessarily masters of sabotage and destruction. But with large-scale disruption in mind, Rin and I had no application whatsoever. Unlike me, however, Rin was a medic, and there were always uses for medics; no ninja who worked with explosives would ever object to keeping an iryou-nin nearby. In contrast, I mostly knew how to make clothes, put on accents, and giggle convincingly at strangers.</p><p>It was no wonder Kakashi was aiming his worst look at me right now. If the critical mission I was commanding were held up that long by literal dead weight, I would be angry, too.</p>
<hr/><p>I was fighting for my life three hours after we arrived at the border.</p><p>The plan had been fairly simple: one squad would distract while the other attacked. We split the teams evenly, six and six, but since Minato was an army all on his own, it was decided that his group would be the one to actually go in and storm the castle. That left Kakashi's group to run about the perimeter and make as much noise as possible, ideally by blowing up everything in sight. I suspected that Minato would have preferred to place me in his squad, but he was in the assailing party and the bleeding need for medical ninjutsu was too egregious to excuse placing Rin with Kakashi. The diversion team, after all, would be able to fall back on guerilla tactics, and anyway would be far too scattered to make use of Rin's talents effectively. There was no choice but to leave me behind.</p><p>Predictably, I was immediately banished to scouting duty. While the Ordnance Corps team busied themselves by gathering their explosives and plotting which bomb ought to be used where, I got ready to locate enemy outposts. The rule was to always go in pairs, but Kakashi did not look at all inclined to accompany me, so I just put my radio on and slinked away miserably. About twenty minutes passed while I trudged on in silence, vaguely tense, as I searched for signs of the enemy.</p><p>Then I found them. The twang of shinobi chakra was unmistakable in my ear. I wasted no time in diving into the bush. For good measure, I also threw on every single stealth technique I had learned while in I&amp;E.</p><p>I held my breath and began furiously straining my sensory ear. A sickeningly familiar melody rang out at me, one that I hadn't heard since the caravan had fallen into Death Valley over a year ago. It was foreign music in a strange key—the key of Rock shinobi, rich and resonant. The texture of their ensemble was beautiful in a way that made me shudder with trepidation. Sound that clear and defined meant only one thing: this was a group skilled ninja. All of them had to be mid-chuunin at the least.</p><p>I chewed on my lip and held quite still, hoping they would continue on, but for some reason they stopped and began milling about in the trees. Several minutes passed as I huddled in the foliage, praying desperately they would pass me by. But they lingered, and I began to sweat.</p><p>I never should have left the camp on my own, I thought bitterly. It would have made Kakashi angry, but I should have insisted he come with me. Then I wouldn't be alone now, and we could have relied on a jounin's knowledge to escape.</p><p>Eventually my nerves frayed to the point where I felt I had no choice but to call for help. Speaking as audibly as I dared, I uttered into my mic, "Enemy spotted. Very large in number, upwards of thirty. They've stopped movement for some reason and I can't get back to you. Location is—"</p><p>Before I could finish my thought, there was a hand ripping the wire from my ear. I froze in horror as the red-clad kunoichi straightened up beside me. She examined the little radio, turning it this way and that. Then she held it up to her own lips.</p><p>"Location is none of your business."</p><p>And then she crushed it between her fingers.</p><p>"I knew I had heard something," she told me, lips curling amusedly as she dropped the remains into the dirt and idly ground the rest of it with her heel. "So this is where you were hiding. I thought you would be older—most scouts don't disappear half as well as you did."</p><p>I swallowed, slowly rising from my crouch, and heard blood begin to rush in my ears. My hands were shaking.</p><p>"But then again, if you were older, you would have known better than to start talking. Panicked a little, eh? Pity. You nearly waited us out. My commander was already boxing my ears for stopping us for nothing."</p><p>One half of my brain was already well into a routine of panic and wailing, but the other half began scrambling desperately to construct a way out. I had to get out of here now, right now, at this instant. Her group was behind us—I needed to go into the open space ahead. But could I outrun them? How far were they spread out? Spread out enough to flank me? My spine absolutely crawled at the prospect. Oh, if they flanked me, it was over. I couldn't fight my way through all of that.</p><p>Talking, she was still talking—why? She wanted me alive, clearly, probably to question. I shuddered convulsively as I remembered the lightless look in Itsuki-sensei's eyes. No, I couldn't let that happen. If they broke Itsuki-sensei, a seasoned shinobi and mentor, they would break me just as well. It would be better to slit my own throat than to give up information and go through all that again.</p><p>I swallowed once more, fearfully, and twitched my fingers towards my holster. It was a valid move. Here, right now, suicide was a real tactic. Considering their numbers against my skill, it was possibly even the best tactic. That was a ninja's way: to die rather than be captured. And after all, I was not mission-critical personnel. The operation could proceed without me. I was only dead weight.</p><p>In that instant I felt like I was suspended, standing one inch removed from reality. I felt like I was standing on a threshold I had stood on many times before. There had been so many close calls already; I had dodged death so many times; so was it time to die now? Was today the day life ended?</p><p>For a moment I thought it was. For a moment I was resigned to it. I was relieved for it, even, because to be dead meant to be done carrying the weight of Kannabi Bridge forever. To be done carrying Kakashi's burning glares, Rin's forced smiles, Minato's faraway stares…</p><p>But then the kunoichi's red sleeve flashed out and my world tilted just a little to the right. As her hand reached out for my hair—grasping, grasping, a hand grasping for my hair—ear-splitting words echoed in my head: "<em>Yoshiya died for nothing."</em></p><p>Wire exploded. There was a blast of wind chakra and a spray of blood. Then I kicked a shower of dirt and leaves up from the ground, threw out four different bunshin in an attempt to cover myself, and made a desperate break for freedom.</p><p>The run was short and hysterical and I was boxed in before I had a chance to even make for the treetops, so I flipped around and began fighting like a rabid animal instead. Jiraiya's improvements to the Strings of Fate jutsu proved to be quite deadly, but I found I did not have time to stop and consider that every twist of chakra—every lost limb and severed head—was violence against another human being. I only had time to stay alive. To duck, to dodge, to wonder when the stream of enemy ninja would end—to despair of victory—to gasp through frenzied sobs and pull away screaming from the grasping hands—</p><p>"Whoa!" the Ordnance Corps tokujou jerked back, unnerved. I stumbled away from him, clutched at a burning stitch in my side, and cried wildly.</p><p>"Don't touch me, don't touch me," I repeated, looking about and seeing Hatsuta's shadow everywhere. "Never touch me again! Stay away!"</p><p>It took several moments to come back to the present, but eventually the hysteric fear of torture separated itself from my vision. When it did, I saw that a sea of shredded Iwa shinobi was spread out around me. I looked out over them, gasping and trembling violently, before my eyes finally came to a stop on Kakashi, who had dropped down from a tree to gape at the carnage. I wondered if he would have some awful remark to make about scouts who couldn't keep cover, but in the end, he only stared.</p><p>Then my knees began to feel rather weak, so I sat down.</p>
<hr/><p>Having contributed quite well indeed to the diversion, I was sent along back to camp while Kakashi and the others went to plant their bombs. I had hardly an ounce of chakra left in me, so I jumped straight into the nearby river instead of blasting myself with a cleaning water jutsu. Then I threw my gory clothes into the fire and stood quivering in my underwear as I dug about in my pack for a spare outfit. When I found it, I changed. Then I tossed out my bedroll and lay down.</p><p>That was how Kakashi and the rest of the team found me when they returned: lying down, back to the fire. I was too tired to even roll over to look at them, so I didn't. In return, they mostly ignored me, which was honestly just as well. I didn't feel right enough to talk. Not when my brain was swimming full of hot sun, of broken ribs, of Akihiko and Hayanari, of Itsuki-sensei—</p><p>I abruptly found myself aching for him. All of a sudden I wanted Sensei more than I wanted anyone. More than Minato, more than Auntie, more than Uncle... I wanted his thoughtful looks, his cool advice, and his clever smiles. If Sensei were here, he would know exactly what to say. He would have been able to talk to me about Hatsuta. He would have been able to tell me it had been right to fight instead of die.</p><p>Had it been right to fight instead of die? An entire contingent of shinobi had been eliminated tonight because I had refused to die. Were thirty grown men and women a fair trade for the life of a single stupid little girl? A little girl who should have known how to shut up and keep her cover?</p><p>"Sensei," I mumbled tearfully, hurting for sound of his voice. "Sensei..."</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Bells</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Minato had finished storming his castle and the two teams reunited in victory, high-fiving over the absolute annihilation of the enemy stronghold, no one was quite willing to tell him how completely and fantastically I'd self-destructed on the Iwa contingent. But Minato was neither stupid nor unobservant. He had had me flagged for psychological distress before the mission even began, and it was not at all difficult to see that something had happened. Eventually the tokujou who had first tried to help me managed to convey that I'd had a bloody and traumatic encounter with the enemy. After that, it was only a matter of croaking a few key words at him—specifically "capture," "interrogation," and "red"—before he put two and two together and realized I'd had a disastrous flashback.</p><p>"I thought you'd been cleared on that incident," he said after he'd taken me aside and away from the ears of the others.</p><p>"I was," I replied wearily, pulling a hand through my hair. There was no point in denying anything any longer, not when it was this blatantly clear. I'd fractured something in my mental health, and trying to walk it off had only made it worse—much worse. It was bad enough now to aggravate injuries that had previously been under control. "It was fine when I was in Earth Country with Akihiko… Something else is wrong."</p><p>Minato let out a long breath. It was a good thing the mission proper was over now. No commander needed the stress of a cracking subordinate while a vital war-ending assignment was underway.</p><p>"Suzu, you're not fit for duty right now."</p><p>I nodded tiredly in agreement.</p><p>"No arguments with bench orders, then?"</p><p>"No arguments. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you earlier."</p><p>Sharply, Minato nodded once. Then he sighed and put a hand on the back of my head. Blessedly, the reaching gesture did not trigger any more hysterical memories of Hatsuta.</p><p>"We'll get you sorted out when we return to the village," he murmured, bending forward to touch his forehead to mine. "I'm sorry, Suzu. Team 7 hasn't been good for you. It's my fault."</p><p>"No, it's mine," I said, and my eyes began to water again. "It's my fault, niichan. All of it. I'm sorry."</p><p>Minato drew back. "Why would you say that?" he murmured, using his thumbs to wipe the tears from corners of my eyes. "How could everything that's happened be your fault?"</p><p>I nearly spilled it all right then and there. The secret was eating me alive. But this was neither the time nor the place drop a bombshell like that one.</p><p>"Will you let me tell you when we go back to the village?" I hiccuped.</p><p>"Yes, that sounds perfect. We'll have a good talk."</p><p>I gripped his sleeve.</p><p>"Won't you hate me when I tell you?" I whispered, wild with a different kind of fear now. The thought of Minato hating me was almost as terrible as the memory of Yoshiya's body pressed against my back.</p><p>"Suzu, I could never hate you," Minato said, crouching down to eye level. "No matter what you tell me. I promise."</p><p>I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my face against his hair. He hugged me back, and I was almost able to pretend that things were like they had been before the reassignment. But though his words rang reassuringly in my ears, I thought in my heart of hearts that my brother didn't know what kind of promise he was really making.</p><hr/><p>Instead of rushing straight back to the village we camped overnight to monitor the area. It had been a grand slaughter on both sides thanks to Minato and me, so there was very little chance any Iwa-nin were going to pop out of the rubble and start salvaging, but it did not hurt to make sure.</p><p>Except maybe it did hurt. Early the next morning, after Minato had set out with a few of the others to look over the base, a thick fog rolled in. It filled the air with a heavy wetness, and as I stood an eerie silence fell. Only Rin, Kakashi, and three of the Ordnance Corps members were still present, but soon their faces were swallowed up by the mist as well.</p><p>I didn't like that at all. I bit my lip and listened carefully, but the haze was like a cloud of white noise. I could hardly even hear the sound of myself in it, let alone the chakra of any of my comrades. This was no natural fog; something was wrong.</p><p>And then, as if in confirmation, Rin let out a startled shriek.</p><p>What followed was a proper cacophony. The shrill chirping of Chidori, Kakashi's signature move, screamed through the air, and a clamor of popping chakra signatures replied, rising above the static. Then the telltale sounds of battle rang out: clashing steel, shouting, grunts and cries and thuds.</p><p>I flipped a knife into my hand and sank back towards the tree line, clamping down on my presence with chakra-concealing and sound-dampening techniques. This was undoubtedly a jutsu, and if it was a technique that gave its user a sensory view of its area of effect, it was best to make like a tree. The mist obviously obscured the visual field, so if I held still and suppressed my chakra signature hard enough, I could probably pass myself off as inanimate. Too bad I hadn't had the chance to learn the chakra manipulations for concealing body heat. I'd been taken from I&amp;E before Oyuki had had the chance to teach me.</p><p>The moment of uncertainty lasted for a long time, but I had learned my lesson, and I wasn't going to move an inch until I had more information. Holding as still as possible, I watched hawkishly for any sign of movement.</p><p>In a moment my need was satisfied because Kakashi flew out with such a huge burst of chakra that the fog around us was blasted away. He spun around wildly, both eyes open, and yelled, "Rin!"</p><p>"Where is Rin?" he demanded when he caught sight of me plastered against the bark. "Is she with you?!"</p><p>"Wh—" I took an involuntary step back. "No, she's not—"</p><p>Kakashi abruptly ducked, dodging a rain of kunai. I used own knife to deflect the ones that flew in my direction, and Kakashi spun around and slammed his lightning-filled hand into his attacker's chest. There was an awful, acrid burning smell; then the enemy collapsed. I froze when I caught sight of his head.</p><p>Lying on the ground at Kakashi's feet was a man in a mask—a Kiri ANBU mask.</p><hr/><p>"Hang on, hang on, there's something east, past the river." I ground my teeth and massaged my temples, concentrating so hard and circulating so much chakra near my ears that my head felt fit to burst. "Heaven help me, it's like nothing—no, there's definitely a noise—"</p><p>"Don't you have anything helpful to say?" Kakashi hissed.</p><p>"A sight more helpful than anything you have," I snapped back, out of patience. "If you don't want to rely on my abilities, use your own sense."</p><p>"Olfactory doesn't have the natural range of auditory," Kakashi replied coldly.</p><p>"Then if you want me to cover for your damn deficiency, you'd best shut up for once in your life and let me listen."</p><p>I was not sure which shocked Kakashi more: that someone had dared to call him deficient in anything, or the fact that that someone had been me. Regardless, the desired effect was achieved. The teen was dumbstruck, and I had a precious few moments of true silence.</p><p>"There!" I gasped, whirling towards four o'clock as a faint chime sounded across the distance. "That was her. They're moving fast—we have to hurry—"</p><p>So much time had passed already. It had taken far too long to locate her. Had they transferred the bijuu already? Could we still stop them?</p><p>After checking our allies one more time—two of the OrdCorps chuunin had taken knocks to the head, but the other one was still conscious and had agreed to stay and keep watch for them—Kakashi and I took off to chase after Rin and her captors. If Kakashi thought anything of how suspiciously I was panicking, he did not show it; instead he ran until his nose was able to pick up the chakra trail. Then we kicked into high gear and leapt so far through the trees it felt almost as if we were flying.</p><p>Once Kakashi had a hold on Rin's signature it was a frightfully easy matter to find her and extract her from enemy clutches. They had come to a stop in a secluded clearing, but it was laughably easy to approach. After a brief discussion, Kakashi produced a kage bunshin, had it henge flawlessly into Minato for shock value, and then crashed into their camp and began wreaking havoc alongside it. Having glimpsed one of my only real competencies—that is, stealth—I was assigned to sneak around the back and pull Rin with me into the trees. After breaking open a package of smelling salts she was awake and we were running away. They sent a token chase force after us, but that was all it was: a token.</p><p>Yes, it frightfully easy—because it was a trap. Both Rin and I knew it. As we began our frantic flight, she opened her mouth and spoke word for word the lines from the Earth girl's memories: <em>They performed some kind of ritual… There's something inside me… I can't go back.</em></p><p>But the snare had already been sprung; it was too late to turn back now. Kakashi rejoined us a few moments later, panting heavily, and for a few moments all we could do was put our minds into the run. But after we had been sprinting for a solid minute or so, two of our Mist pursuers leapt forward to attack. My teammates and I went careening from the treetops, past the forest's edge and into the rocky wasteland. Kakashi immediately unleashed a hail of kunai to cover our landing, but as soon as our feet touched the ground the earth beneath us exploded in a cloud of dusty smoke screen. Ten more ninja came flying at us from all sides. And then, from behind them, there emerged ten more.</p><p>It was an ambush of absurd numbers. I wondered in that moment if Madara Uchiha, the puppetmaster behind all of these events, had actually intended to return Rin to Konoha at all. Had he really cared to let the Sanbi loose in the Leaf Village? Or had Rin been destined to die from the beginning? It must not have mattered to him either way. So long as he was able to break Obito, he would have what he wanted.</p><p>The sky was darkening now. My heart surged with panic as Kakashi tumbled, swore, and leapt into the fray with another barrage of thrown weapons. If we were surrounded now—if the battle began now—that meant that soon Rin would die. She would see the enemy, consider their numbers against our skill, and choose the best tactic. Because that was a ninja's way: to die rather than be captured.</p><p>A sword came fast for my head. I dodged without thinking, and as my assailant approached, I found myself turning my backbend into an attack. Flipping onto one hand, I smashed my heel into his chin to distract him and laid a seal on his shin with my other. He was only briefly stunned, so in the next moment he had seized me by the ankle and chucked me into air like a rag doll. Swallowing a terrified gasp, I stretched out my hand, twisted my chakra, and saw my steel threads materialize again.</p><p>What a view, that bird's eye view of that Bloody Mist ANBU. I have not forgotten it. The glint of the fading light on the wires, which at that moment had not yet been pulled taut, had framed his figure like a picture. He had been dressed in black and his vest had been steel gray, just like our ANBU's were. But unlike our ANBU he'd had arm warmers instead of gauntlets. Different also had been his mask. Unlike the Leaf, the Bloody Mist's masks were uniform; his was exactly the same as his fellow's. It was absurd, but I remember thinking in that moment that it was a shame. It had made him seem generic and disposable. Of course, anonymity was a great hallmark of any village's ANBU, but if they had let them paint their own masks, at least then they could have been individuals in their anonymity.</p><p>But the bird's eye view eventually ended. The wires straightened; a pulse of wind chakra cut his calf clean off; the ANBU crumpled into a heap. As I landed on him, making sure to slam my foot into the back of his neck to break it, I felt as if I were a stranger in my own body, and I experienced a moment of silent awe. I had never killed a man so smoothly—so gracefully, so cleanly—in my life. I had never killed anyone before I had gone on this mission. Had I always been able to snuff out life so efficiently? Did people really die just like that?</p><p>But then that moment ended too. In the next I fighting yet another death match, except this time I wasn't having a psychotic break and my enemies were elite assassins. I took a few more of them down, but unsurprisingly, I fared much worse against them than I had against the Iwa-nin. In a moment three different hands clutching three different knives were set to collide with my skull. Gasping for breath, I futilely tried to drop into a crouch, but I knew that I would not make it in time.</p><p>Just then, though, Kakashi reappeared from within the crowd of enemies, and I was saved by the screech of yet another Chidori. He shot through the group like bullet, as fast as the lightning sparking in his hand; my attackers fell to the ground, cut through by his jutsu.</p><p>For a second I was so relieved that I forgot myself. As Kakashi swung around to make another pass at the mob of Kiri ninja, I let out a great sigh, grateful beyond measure that he would not abandon a teammate to die no matter how much he despised her. Despite everything—despite the name calling, the bullying, the endless caustic comments—he was still my ally. This time I was not fighting alone.</p><p>But a choir of handbells brought me out of that. I heard the music of her chakra before I saw the blur of her figure. It was dark and her shirt was black, so if I hadn't heard her chakra ringing I would have certainly mistaken her for an enemy. But I did hear it, and I knew right then and there that Rin had jumped at her teammate's jutsu to kill herself.</p><p>For a split second my mind was carried away in a memory of hot, dusty air. We had been baking in the sun. It had been so boring. But then Susumu had begun to talk to us about shunshins, and he'd said—what had he said? He'd said, "There are several ways to mold chakra for a shunshin. Because the Body Flicker technique is a jutsu that requires chakra distribution through several different points of the body, not just in one location, most people simply saturate the hara and then wait for the chakra to spill through to their limbs without directing it. But the resulting shunshin is sloppy, loud, and inefficient. It's also much slower because it wastes time at two crucial points: one, in the time you take to mold the unnecessary extra chakra, and two, in the time you have to wait for your circulation system to move the chakra on its own. Conversely, molding an exact amount of chakra and moving it precisely to the limbs, closing all unnecessary tenketsu, allows you to make distances in speeds you wouldn't otherwise—and much more quietly besides."</p><p>In half a breath I had gathered the necessary chakra, and in the next half I was rocketing forward at a speed I had not known myself capable of. The flicker was so fast it made it difficult to see, but somehow I got my hands around one of Rin's arms, so I seized it and yanked her with me.</p><p>She jerked to the side just as Kakashi's hand burst through her back.</p><hr/><p>What happened next took place in a blur of mere seconds. Rin choked out Kakashi's name; Kakashi stood frozen in shock; then they both collapsed. As they collapsed, a note of chakra burst out from by my thigh, and then there was a flash of yellow.</p><p>Minato Namikaze streaked out of the air and into our midst. He took a sweeping glance of the area and was greeted by the sight of smoke, enemy ANBU, and his students lying bloody on the ground. Without missing a beat, my cousin hooked an arm around my neck before seizing Rin and Kakashi both by the sleeves. The moment he had his hands on them I heard another twang of chakra, and suddenly we were sitting in the grass of our campsite. Our OrdCorps squadmates were staring over their shoulders at us in shock.</p><p>For a moment I sat half-collapsed on my behind, dumbfounded. In a fluid motion, Minato reached around my torso and snapped my kunai holster open.</p><p>"Even after all this time, you still carry it," he murmured, pulling hs three-pronged kunai out by its handle ring and regarding the peeling seal on its handle with a shake of the head.</p><p>"I—" I worked my jaw. Then I swiveled my head towards Rin in terror. "I—did I get her? Oh my g—is she… niichan, did I—?"</p><p>Minato took one look at my face, dropped my kunai in the grass, and pulled Rin out of the tangle of limbs. His eyes immediately fixed on the gushing wound in our team medic's chest.</p><p>"Oh no." I heard my voice crack. "Oh<em>, </em>no<em>. </em>Rin."</p><p>For a moment, Minato's expression was blank as he gazed down at his student's tearstained face. Blood was leaking from her mouth, dribbling over her chin and all down her neck. He was frozen on his hands and knees. But then his lips moved.</p><p>"She's alive."</p><p>I looked at him in shock. "What?"</p><p>"She's breathing, barely," Minato said, lifting one hand to hold over over her mouth. The other he used to begin rummaging forcefully through his pack. "She's alive."</p><p>"I—but how? She—she jumped in front of Kakashi… she took a Chidori… she took a one-hit-kill technique to the chest!"</p><p>"Not directly to the chest," he replied, motioning me over. "Look. Her shoulder took most of the damage. Her thoracic cavity has been breached and her lungs are collapsing, but the blow missed her heart."</p><p>Then the shunshin—my wild, blind grab—it had worked? I was so shocked that I could only kneel there gaping, so Minato gently pushed me aside. Then he began tearing his pack apart with renewed purpose, gaze sharpening with determination.</p><p>"But she won't last long like this," he murmured, eyes narrow, as he withdrew a scroll from the bag. From that he summoned a smaller scroll and a calligraphy set. "Only emergency surgery from an iryou-nin on par with Tsunade-sama could fix this."</p><p>The OrdCorps team made noises of dismay. My stomach plummeted.</p><p>"Then…" I asked, voice quivering, "...then it's too late?"</p><p>Minato looked up and pinned me with a defiant stare.</p><p>"Not if I have anything to say about it."</p><hr/><p>Minato's long life as a shinobi had ensured that it would be difficult to ever classify a move of his as frantic, but a certain uncomposed urgency did color his demeanor as he began pulling out different seals from his scroll. He seemed to have a stock of everything: storage seals, barrier seals, locking seals, exploding seals, gas-releasing seals… everything, it seemed, but something to save Rin. I watched without breathing, burning with the awareness that every second spent searching was a second against Rin's survival. The two OrdCorps chuunin, who were looking on in silent fascination, held just as still as I did.</p><p>Eventually Minato's hands closed around a black scroll. I recognized it immediately: it was a scroll for storing corpses, known colloquially as a body-bag seal. We had used countless in Death Valley.</p><p>My brother stilled, staring at it with parted lips, and I thought for one awful second that he had given up. But then he grabbed for a clean scroll and took his brush to it, eyes wide. In a moment a seal began to blossom under his hands. It was a multi-mechanism seal, full of complex links and components; so complex, in fact, that my fuuinjutsu knowledge soon failed me, and I lost track of what he was trying to do.</p><p>I had never seen him write a seal so intensely. Sealing with Minato had always been a relaxed affair; conducted in the bright, cozy sitting room of the House, lessons had been light and low-pressure. Now, though, the weight of his focus was so immense as to be unbearable. When a bead of sweat threatened to drop from his nose and onto his work, he jerked his head to the side and sent it flying off into the grass without even pausing in his work. His concentration was so great and so complete that it reminded me in a strange, shivering way of the cold touch of killing intent.</p><p>As soon as he was done, a blast of controlled wind chakra dried the ink instantly. Minato gave it a single once-over, eyes scanning furiously, before he took a deep breath and placed it on Rin's stomach. The air around Rin began to resonate with the sound of Minato's chakra, mellow and warm, before the melody of it resolved on a strangely minor note. Then the pitch stretched and decrescendoed until it became a nearly-inaudible hum. Rin seemed to freeze entirely. Her chest stopped heaving and the blood ceased leaking down her side.</p><p>A moment passed; she was perfectly still. Minato, who had been clutching the black body-bag seal to his chest in quiet anticipation, sat back on his heels and exhaled approximately a quarter of his lifespan.</p><p>"What did… what did you do?" one of the chuunin asked.</p><p>Minato, still a little breathless, held up the black scroll. "I made one of these," he explained, "and altered it for use on living beings. It's an ambiently sustained, closed-circuit time-space stasis seal that operates on the cellular level to freeze biological function. I combined it with a set of medical seals often used to sustain coma patients. It can siphon chakra from the activation mechanism to prevent disruption due to physical movement of the body, too."</p><p>The OrdCorps duo regarded him dumbly. I spent several second parsing this string of hyphenated words.</p><p>Then I asked slowly, "Do you mean to say you've invented a seal that stops time?"</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. The Song of the Air</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When we returned to the village, we rushed Rin's frozen body to a more stable hospital environment. Then we had our two concussed teammates examined. After that, we reported the results of our mission directly to the Hokage's office, which I had never done once in all my career as a ninja. In fact, I'd only seen the Sandaime two or three times in my life—once at the beginning of my Academy career, once at the end, and once in passing at the Missions Office.</p><p>As the eleven of us walked through the halls of the administrative wing, people whispered and nodded meaningfully at Minato. It was then that this rumor first reached my ears: that the Sandaime had nominated the war hero Minato Namikaze to succeed him as Hokage, that this mission had been a test by the council, and that Minato would become the Yondaime because he had returned in success.</p><p>Minato, for his part, seemed utterly unphased by these mutterings. Of course, he was a consummate shinobi who never would have shown his shock even if he had been, but at that point I realized that my brother had been posed to receive the title of Kage for some time now.</p><p>But despite the moment of all these matters—despite the gravity of a direct report to the Sandaime, and the rare chance to see the administration of the village at its head—I found my gaze drifting away. We lined up in ranks before the Hokage's desk and Minato began summarizing the operation, but I barely took in my surroundings. All I could think about was the the itch in my shoe, the ache in the small of my back, and the pile of blood-rusted, newly-bought chakra conductive wire stored in the Strings of Fate's master seal. I hadn't thought to clean them after either of my battles. Would they even be salvageable at this point? Was it going to be worth trying to save them, or should I just cut my losses and buy a new set of coils?</p><p>I was so consumed in this line of thought that I hardly noticed when the Sandaime dismissed the two Ordnance Corps teams. But as the door shut I realized that Minato had moved to stand by the Sandaime's desk, and that Kakashi and I were alone in the center of the room.</p><p>The Hokage and Minato both regarded us silently. I had to consciously arrest a move to hide behind Kakashi's shoulder, and as a result ended up jerking rather convulsively. Kakashi seemed to make some sort of aborted motion himself, but he concealed it better than I did, so he only twitched.</p><p>"In light of this recent mission, Sandaime-sama, I'd like to request Team 7 be put on standby," Minato said softly.</p><p>"Indeed," the Sandaime agreed. "I will grant this request. Team Minato is in no shape to continue active service. Additionally, I'm mandating young Suzu-san and Kakashi-kun both undergo full psychological evaluations. You'll both report to the western wing of the hospital at 0800 tomorrow morning."</p><p>I had expected nothing less for myself, but I was a little surprised to hear that Kakashi would also be evaluated. Taking stock of the Earth girl's memories, it seemed to me that most of Kakashi's trauma as a teen had been carried through quite unhealthily into adulthood. Then again, as long as he didn't display the sort of dangerous tendencies that I had—that is, having a psychotic break and going on a blind, panicked rampage—the village could do nothing to make him face his demons. He only had to maintain enough sanity to carry out his duties as a shinobi.</p><p>What did that say for my sanity? After spending a quiet night at home, slipping in while the household was abed and heading out after eating a late breakfast alone, we found out. Kakashi and I arrived at the same time and walked together into the western wing for our appointments, but at the end of the hour only Kakashi was permitted to return home. The results of my evaluation dictated that my presence would be retained until further notice.</p><p>So I went to the counter for patient intake while he scheduled a follow-up at a later date. We met gazes as he was leaving, but the look in his eye was unreadable.</p>
<hr/><p>Because the western wing had no official designation it was not a psychiatric ward as such. But the lion's share of patients were in residence for various psychological ills, and I had not quite known what to expect going in. Considering the differences in era between this world and the Earth girl's, one part of me had felt rather worried, but my fears proved to be unfounded. Staying in the western wing was not unlike being hospitalized for a physical ailment. The biggest difference was that instead of going to physical therapy we talked to psychologists instead.</p><p>It was a great blessing that the western wing was Hayato Yamanaka-sensei's home turf, and I was blisteringly grateful for his familiar presence. He was a true professional, level-headed and completely matter-of-fact, and he dismantled any incipient feelings of awkwardness or shame for my admission with great aplomb.</p><p>"Shinobi have to learn their psychological limits just as much as they have to learn their physical ones," he said, calm and businesslike. "You'd be surprised by how many ninja sojourn here at least once in their careers. I doubt any seasoned shinobi would look down on you for it. We've all had our own blunders."</p><p>Another unexpected development was that there were other young shinobi my age currently confined to the wing. Their names were Masaki and Koharu. They were both a year my senior and they were former squadmates, though not as genin graduates. Their teams had been consolidated after Koharu's sensei and teammates had been killed.</p><p>In my eye they seemed normal. Koharu was a little twitchy and tended to clam up in the presence of adult males, and Masaki had a habit of sliding into a thousand-yard-stare at odd times, but they seemed fairly well-put together for psychiatric patients. Then again, they said much the same of me, and I had killed a score and a half of Iwa-nin in a fit of flashback panic. I suppose we all were just putting on good shows.</p><p>They had been in for some time before I had arrived, so they knew the routine of the place. They were also more or less willing to include me in their daily activities, share their favorite lunch spot in the courtyard, and generally spend time with me, so I began to hang out with them when the opportunity arose. Masaki knew the names of every nurse on the floor so he took an afternoon to show everyone to me and tell me about their personalities—who was laidback, who was strict, who would give you candy if you asked for it, and so on. Koharu pointed out the ones "who were safe to go to if you ever feel like you're having an episode," which I took to mean as the ones who wouldn't tattle to a doctor if you confided in them over a nightmare or a flashback or something similar.</p><p>As far as shinobi teenagers went they were very friendly. The one thing they absolutely would not share, though, was why they had been admitted to the western wing to begin with. But I supposed that was fair. I was not sure that I would be willing to tell them my story, either.</p><p>So instead we whiled days away together, folding origami in between therapy sessions and forced journaling exercises. Sometimes we would gather outside after curfew spitefully, brace ourselves against the now-cooled autumn wind, and cynically mock the whole premise of shinobi crying and writing in their diaries. But sometimes we would take it seriously, too, and on a rare occasion even discuss the things we wrote about. Koharu complained about how the sounds of doors opening always made her jump when she least expected it. Masaki confided with a distant look that he hated the smell of nadeshiko flowers because his sensei had worn perfume and it reminded him too much of her. I told them that I had been a little relieved when I thought I would die on my last mission because it meant I wouldn't have to worry about the stuff going on with my team anymore. Masaki gave me a sympathetic look and said that if he had been in the same situation it would have been tempting. Koharu looked like she agreed.</p><p>"So my assignment this week is to write about what happened right before the mission," I told them one evening, frowning at the blank pages. We were sprawled on our stomachs on the rug in the common room, spread out with our pens and notebooks. "But I honestly don't remember most of what happened that week at all."</p><p>"How do you mean?" Masaki asked.</p><p>"I mean, I know I did stuff like train and shop and eat with my cousins, and I remember random conversations, but Hayato-sensei told me to be more specific. Like write about where I went that day, who I was with, what I worked on in training. But I don't remember that stuff hardly at all."</p><p>"Oh, I know what that is," Koharu said. "Or, well, I know what it might be. I have the same problem. We talked about it for a while and Hayato-sensei told me it sounded like I was having issues with dissociation. Sometimes if something stresses you out too much, apparently your brain can decide to forget about it so you don't have to deal with it. But then it's not good because you can get upset and not know why. If you ask him he'll probably help you figure out what you've forgotten. We're working on it in my appointments, too."</p><p>Hayato-sensei did not seem at all surprised when I brought Koharu's idea with me to the next session, which made me suspect that he had known all along why I couldn't remember. This suspicion only deepened when he revealed that he had already spoken extensively with Minato about all of our activities since the reassignment, and had since assembled detailed notes about all the various fights and drama Kakashi and I had gotten into. When he caught sight of my disgruntled stare, he smiled apologetically at me.</p><p>But something still wasn't right. Hayato-sensei seemed to think that I had been dissociating to cope with my senpai's hostile behavior, but I did not think that that was quite true. The gaps in my memory did align with unhappy encounters with Kakashi, but there was something more. If I were just reacting to Kakashi, that didn't explain why I couldn't remember going to the store or getting a new chuunin vest fitted. There was another piece to the problem that I wasn't seeing.</p><p>I had been sitting in a windowsill and musing on this when I sensed that someone was looking at me. It was not exactly a chakra-sense feeling—though once I stopped to listen I found that the song of the air had changed—and I tilted my head, puzzled. Then I turned my face away from the glass and looked over my shoulder.</p><p>A slim man, brown-haired and fair of face, was staring at me. He was standing at the desk and he had the look of a someone who had seen a thousand battles—not because of scars, but because of his stance. Despite his seemingly innate gravitas, however, he was staring at me comically wide eyes. I shot him a questioning look.</p><p>His lips parted. "Suzu-chan?"</p><p>The sound of my name in his voice, which was surprisingly low-pitched for a man with such soft features, made my heart leap in my chest. For a long moment I was utterly bewildered. But then he turned his head to look me full on. We stared at one another in shocked silence.</p><p>Then I asked softly, "Sensei?"</p><p>Sure enough, that was the face of Itsuki Mikawaya. His hair had been cut to his ears and was shorter than I had ever seen him wear it. No wonder I hadn't recognized him at first; he looked like a different man without his long ponytail.</p><p>He seemed to fight back a flinch at the sound of my voice. Then he let out an incredulous half-breath, heavy with the surge of unexpected emotion. Seemingly involuntarily, his hand lifted as he walked forward, but his fingers stopped an inch or so from my head. Blinking as if he did not know how to speak, he lowered his arm to his side.</p><p>"Your hair…" he began haltingly. "You… you grew it out."</p><p>I blinked and glanced down. I had hardly bothered with my hair at all this morning; as a result it was tumbling uncombed all the way down my back, exposing its full length. These days it hung to my waist. How strange—hadn't there been a time when his hair had been longer than mine? Somehow we had reversed.</p><p>"...How long does it take to grow hair that long?"</p><p>Itsuki-sensei swallowed heavily. It was a question that disguised another question, but the answer to both was the same.</p><p>"It's been about two years," I replied quietly.</p><p>Itsuki-sensei stood as if dumbfounded. I sat up from my slouched position and turned so my legs were hanging off the windowsill, making space for another. But he didn't sit. In fact, he stared at the spot next to me like it was a thing out of his nightmares, and after a moment his hands began to shake.</p><p>I wondered if he would turn away and leave me again. But eventually he seemed to steel himself, took a deep breath, and sat. His scent was different from what I had remembered. Rather than the smell of oil and weapon polish, the fragrance of fresh fruit clung to him instead.</p><p>"What are you doing here?" I asked after another pregnant pause.</p><p>"Oh, I—" Itsuki-sensei shifted. "I have an appointment at nine."</p><p>I looked at a nearby clock and read the time as 8:25.</p><p>"You're awfully early."</p><p>"...Yeah, I am. I've—I've been kind of anxious the past few days. I thought I would show up early on the chance that—in case I might be able to meet with my doctor ahead of time."</p><p>"I see."</p><p>I could tell by the way he looked at me that he was putting the picture together quickly. Dressed in a hospital-issued jinbei, lounging about the hallways like I had lived here all my life… it was obvious that I was a patient here. A faint dread began to form in his expression, and I wondered what he was thinking.</p><p>He opened and closed his mouth several times, but he couldn't seem to form a sentence. He was trembling so hard that I began to pity him despite myself. Seeing him now reminded me of how I had felt in the days in camp at Tatsumi River; seeing him now, I was unable to resent him at all for absconding from my life. It was clear that he couldn't have met with me even if he had wanted to. It had been two years and he could hardly stand to see me me now.</p><p>"Mikawaya-san?" a nurse called, emerging from around the corner. "I talked to Ochida-sensei. She said she's fine to meet with you now."</p><p>Itsuki bolted to his feet, breathing tightly controlled, and all but fled to her side. But as I watched him move away, feeling strange, he turned back to look at me.</p><p>"I'll come back," he said. He was still shaking, and his voice wavered, but his eyes seemed suddenly ablaze with determination. "When—when I'm done. Give me time. I'm coming back to see you."</p><p>I looked at him, surprised. And then I found myself cracking a smile, and then a laugh.</p><p>"That'd be great, Sensei. See you then."</p>
<hr/><p>And he did come back. I was back in the common room with Koharu and Masaki, taping the pieces of a flower kusudama together, when a voice called my name.</p><p>"Suzu-san." Hayato-sensei appeared in the doorway. "You have a visitor."</p><p>Itsuki-sensei's face appeared over Hayato-sensei's shoulder. Koharu's breath hitched and Masaki went into full-on defense mode, shifting in front of his teammate. His grip on his pencil was white-knuckled as he quickly got to his feet. Grabbing onto Koharu's sleeve, Masaki tugged and immediately moved towards the opposite door. Koharu let herself be pulled from the room, staring wide-eyed at the doorway, and then they were gone.</p><p>After a moment Hayato-sensei sighed, paused to give me an encouraging look, and then strode after them.</p><p>"...Friends?" Itsuki-sensei questioned after a moment.</p><p>"Maybe," I said, though in that moment I felt rather doubtful. It had all happened in seconds, so I wasn't sure, but I could have sworn Masaki had given me quite an unhappy look as he was leaving. "We hang out, but we haven't known each other long. But they're nice to me."</p><p>I sat up from the floor and shifted onto a nearby chair. Itsuki-sensei only hesitated for a moment before he came over and sat down on the couch across from me.</p><p>"Suzu-chan, I'm sorry," he began after taking a deep breath. "For everything. I—I was your sensei, but I couldn't protect you and Yoshiya-kun. And when it was all over, even though you were the one who had borne the brunt for all of us, I did nothing for you. I… I don't know what you've been through since then, but I can tell it hasn't been good, and I should have been there for you. But I wasn't. I'm sorry."</p><p>I stared at him for a long moment. To be apologized to after breathing in shame and accusation as the only air for days, for weeks, for months… for a moment I had to remember what it was like to live with my face in a different wind. In the time where my brother and my uncle had told me, "It's not your fault."</p><p>"I really missed you," I said finally. "On my last mission, I really wished you had been there. I… I needed help. And I wanted you there to tell me what to do."</p><p>Itsuki-sensei's expression contorted painfully. I wondered what I wanted to accomplish by telling him this. I reflected on my hands in silence.</p><p>"But I don't think I blame you for any of it at all," I decided eventually. "It was—I don't know if anyone could have helped me. After everything the war's shown me, I don't know if anyone can really actually help anyone anymore. But I still made it in the end. And—and we're all alive this time. Even though I'm here now, we're all still alive."</p><p>Because I had chosen to live instead of die. The Iwa contingent was dead because of it, but I was alive. And Rin was, too; she had survived because I traded their lives for mine. She was living by a thread now, but what did that really mean in the end? We were all living by a thread.</p><p>Itsuki-sensei turned his eyes into his own lap. "Ochida-sensei says the same," he said. "That we can't help everyone, I mean. That teachers can't always save their students. Sometimes it's all we can do to save ourselves."</p><p>I thought about this, about Yoshiya, and about the way my body had ached and throbbed with unbearable, lancing pain when Tokiya had told him to stand aside. Then I nodded. There was truth in those words.</p><p>"I've retired from the General Forces," Itsuki-sensei told me abruptly. "They let me go on medical grounds. I'm not a shinobi anymore. I don't think I can be."</p><p>"I think that's fine. Sometimes I don't think I can be a shinobi, either."</p><p>"I run the fruit store now. Granddad's too ill so he gave it over to me."</p><p>Then that was well. He had found a different life. I regarded him with a sudden surge of wonder. There was another way of life, wasn't there? He wasn't a ninja anymore, but he was still living. There was more than just being a shinobi…</p><p>"When… when you get out, you should come see me. Come see my store. I haven't been in contact with you until now, but that was because I didn't know if you were angry with me, or if I could handle it. But I know now, and I want to be able to talk to you again. Even if you're not my student anymore, I… I want to know about how you're doing. How you're feeling. If you're well."</p><p>And suddenly all in a moment my eyes began to well up with tears. I sucked in a breath and hid my mouth behind a closed fist. I did not know it at the time, but at that point in my life, I had been cramming myself into a very narrow box, and I had been suffering for it. It was, looking back, a box in which the regard of big brothers mattered most. A box in which only excellent young kunoichi could live, in which the world turned on whether or not he was happy to see me, if he was proud of me, whether he loved me, whether he would keep loving me…</p><p>That was a moment when I realized that the were other people in the world. It was a moment when their regard and their concern became not only meaningful, but something that I began to desire perhaps even more than Minato's.</p><p>Of course, I had known that my aunt, uncle, and cousins all loved me, and their love—the quiet talks, the late-night conversations—had been the lifeline I'd been clinging to all throughout those months on Team 7. But it was still different. Even if it was not always easy, loving family was a natural choice. But loving a girl who was not family—a girl who was a walking symbol of one's trauma—caring about how she was feeling and if she was well even after all chains of duty to her had been resigned…</p><p>Itsuki-sensei was watching my face with silent concern.</p>
<hr/><p>I didn't see Masaki or Koharu at all for the rest of that day, but I still felt light despite their absence. Itsuki-sensei had written his store's address on a paper, which I had taped to the door of the dresser. Every time I sat up in bed and saw it a strange warmth would spread all throughout my body.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. What the War Gave Us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning: references to torture and rape.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For some reason the next day my appointment with Hayato-sensei was cancelled, so that morning I was unexpectedly free. Masaki and Koharu were not at any of their usual haunts, so I wandered in boredom until I found a sunny patch of grass in the courtyard. Then I suddenly found myself training. Obviously there were no kunai or wires here, but it only took chakra and some old-fashioned sweat to start recreating Akihiko's old handstand pushup regimen. Despite all my misgivings, I guess I really was a ninja child in the end.</p><p>About ten minutes in, I stopped what I was doing and stared down at the ground in contemplation. By the time we had left for Death Valley Akihiko had been doing far more challenging exercises than handstand pushups. I wondered what he was up to now. What sort of training did Special Forces apprentices do? He was probably taking part in all sorts of combat drills that I couldn't even dream of. He had always been on a different level. Sometimes it still boggled my mind that Susumu had tried to recruit me alongside him.</p><p>"What are you doing?" Kakashi asked me. "You hit 120 seconds a while ago."</p><p>I dropped my chin and stared blankly at him. He was dressed as he always was in blacks and navy blues, but today his bandages were gone. He had begun to tilt his hitai-ate over his eye.</p><p>I looked back at the ground, thought about how my shirt was loose and how my midriff was exposed, and about how my hair had not been combed in two days running. Then I quickly dropped out of my handstand.</p><p>"Nothing," I muttered, putting a hand on the back of my neck and looking away. "I was just wondering. About what it would be like to be a Special Forces apprentice, I mean."</p><p>"For ANBU? Why would you wonder about that?"</p><p>"I was just thinking about my old teammate and what things would be like if we hadn't split," I said. "But—never mind. Why are—what are you doing here?"</p><p>Kakashi stared at me like I'd grown another head. I shifted nervously, realizing that that admission had been a mistake. I had promised Susumu that I wouldn't talk to anyone about it, after all. I doubted he would know if I did say anything, of course, but somehow betraying the confidence of an ANBU captain seemed unwise regardless. I hoped Kakashi would have the good sense not to ask anything else.</p><p>"...I came for my follow-up today," my teammate eventually—mercifully—replied. "I guessed you probably hadn't heard, so I thought I might as well tell you about Sensei while I was here."</p><p>My eyebrows rose. "Minato-nii?"</p><p>I had thought it a little strange he hadn't stopped by—we had promised to talk when we returned to the village, and he always visited House kids when they were in the hospital—but I had figured he was busy with the whole matter of his nomination.</p><p>Kakashi eyed me with an inscrutable look. That was something of an improvement from his regular behavior; he usually glared if I referred to Minato by any other address but "taichou" or "sensei." In fact, this entire encounter had been strangely mild. But I suppose he had reason to be subdued even without considering our venue.</p><p>"He's been dispatched to the western front again. Rumor has it that Iwa is mustering a thousand shinobi in response to our sabotage operation. Since Suna is tied down with the Kumo guerilla squads led by A the Unruly, and since the Sannin are holding the eastern front, they say the Yellow Flash is Konoha's only hope of repelling the invasion."</p><p>I was mute as I processed this information. Of course. In the story of Naruto, what had history remembered best about the Yellow Flash? Not his debut campaign at Tatsumi River, or his nomination test, or even his role in the Battle of Kannabi Pass. It had been his defeat of a thousand Rock ninja.</p><p>"I see."</p><p>Kakashi raised an eyebrow at me. I looked away.</p><p>"He's going to be Hokage," I said. "Of course he would have to go. He's the village's strongest ninja."</p><p>Kakashi was quiet at that. We spent a long minute standing awkwardly together in the courtyard. The wind began to blow, and now that I was no longer exercising, my sweat was beginning to cool my skin. I shivered.</p><p>"I—" Kakashi said.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"Never mind."</p><p>There was a longer and even more awkward silence. I began rubbing my arms uncomfortably.</p><p>"I also wanted to talk to you," Kakashi admitted at a length. "Are you free?"</p><p>I gave him a startled look.</p><p>"Um, yeah. My session was cancelled this morning, and the daily check-in's not for hours."</p><p>Another silence. Kakashi stared at me.</p><p>"...It's cold, so I guess, um…" I stared back. "I guess we'll head back to my room. There's a—uh. I have a sweater there."</p><p>We were so uncomfortable it was vaguely comedic. I sat down atop my bed, pulling the sleeves of my sweater on, and Kakashi seated himself in the wooden chair next to the window. Morning light washed over his figure and made the tips of his silver hair so bright that they looked white.</p><p>It was a strange transformation. Usually he was so harsh, so severe, and so brutal in both wit and form that I could never think of him as anything but a hard and deadly jounin. But something about him had softened that morning, and as he sat in that chair and looked at me with his dark, downturned eye, he was different. He was still nothing like the Kakashi the Earth girl knew—his back was so straight and his air was so solemn—but he was not quite the Kakashi I knew, either.</p><p>I wondered if this was the Kakashi Rin looked at when she fancied him. I hadn't understood how anyone could fancy Kakashi the jounin, but this Kakashi—if it was this Kakashi, that seemed more tenable.</p><p>"I'm sorry," he said.</p><p>I blinked and was taken out of the quiet dazzle. "Pardon me?"</p><p>"I'm sorry," Kakashi repeated. "For everything. For the way I've been behaving towards you. It's unacceptable."</p><p>"I…" I gawked. Then I realized I was gawking and hid my gaping jaw behind a hand. But words still failed me. "I—but you…?"</p><p>Kakashi's straight back slumped, and he gave me a look that could only be described as miserable. I pulled myself together.</p><p>"It's not your fault," I raced to reassure him. "You don't have to—I mean—this whole thing has been awful for everyone. I—I understand."</p><p>"That's no excuse," he protested, looking intent on finding some way to chastise himself. "I'm a jounin and your senior. Someone of my position picking fights with a younger kunoichi who was forced into the team by transfer… and now you're in the western wing—you can't justify my actions. Not with this." (1)</p><p>Kakashi had always been so unwavering and self-assured in everything he did that I found myself at a loss. It never even occurred to me that I might ever receive an apology from him. Not only because of his personality, though—I never imagined getting one because I didn't think I deserved one. Not in the final analysis, anyway.</p><p>I found myself sinking back against my pillows with that thought. Kakashi noticed the darkening of my gaze and seemed to hold his breath. What could I say?</p><p>"I have not been good to my team, either," I uttered after a long moment, vaguely and without meeting his gaze. "I've… failed them in too many ways. I think—I think I would be the worst kind of hypocrite if I held any of these past months against you." I looked up then. "...Kakashi-san, I want to apologize to you, too, but I have a secret I can't tell you. That… probably makes the whole apology meaningless, but I want to say it anyway."</p><p>I bit my lip, looked out of the corner of my eye toward the window, and thought about Obito and his orange goggles. Then I looked back at Kakashi: Kakashi whose left eye was gone, whose shoulders were heavy, and whose gaze tired and sad. In a breathless moment I regretted my silence fiercely. I regretted it maybe more than I had regretted anything in my life. I regretted my cowardice because there had been a way to prevent all of that suffering.</p><p>No, there was still a way.</p><p>"I'm sorry," I forced out heavily, and then held my breath to prevent the escape of any unseemly sob-like noises. Determinedly, I did not cry. No tears—not even water. No passivity. This ridiculous charade had to end.</p><p>Kakashi, in an odd turnaround, seemed quite mystified by the intensity of this sudden reverse-apology. For a moment, he regarded me in silent bewilderment. But then he sat back in his chair, too, and spoke after a moment.</p><p>"Just Kakashi," he said.</p><p>I blinked.</p><p>"...Pardon?"</p><p>"Just Kakashi. Don't add -san." He crossed his arms. "You didn't use -san for Rin either. So Kakashi is fine."</p><p>In that moment, the clouds shifted and the light filtering through the branches of the courtyard trees fell over me, too. Mid-morning sunshine lit up the whole of the room. As one, we both paused and looked up as dust motes swirled in the air, speckling my glowing white bedsheets with faint pinpricks of shadow.</p><p>"Kakashi," I said after a moment.</p><p>"Suzu," he replied.</p><hr/><p>I flipped my journal upside down and then opened it from the back. The process of writing down the story of Naruto was not an easy one. It was so many memories of a reality so removed. There had been plots she hadn't followed, story arcs she'd skipped and only read about, and things she just plain hadn't remembered. It was a project of several days, and was so consuming that it took three consecutive cancellations of therapy for me to even realize that something was amiss in the western ward.</p><p>But something was wrong. On the morning I'd squeezed out the very last of what the Earth girl knew about the end of the story—I would go back and assemble profiles for characters later—I tilted my head, frowned, and asked as a nurse came in with breakfast, "Is Hayato-sensei sick?"</p><p>The nurse, who was one of the ones Koharu had classified as "safe," tilted her head back at me. "It's a little complicated," she said vaguely. "But if you need him, I can let him know. You're doing all right?"</p><p>"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just wondering. It's been a while since I saw him."</p><p>"He's still around. He told me to let you know he's still available if you asked after him. When I mentioned that you've been writing furiously all week, he said he figured you had started to remember some of the stuff you'd dissociated, so please don't hold back if you want help working through something. Do you want me to take your journal to him?"</p><p>She probably meant to be reassuring, but this offer had a completely opposite effect. I plastered the diary against my chest in horror.</p><p>"Or not." She held up a placating hand. "I won't, then. Oh, don't look at me like that. We know journals are private. None of us will go snooping without your permission."</p><p>I did know, and I figured I could take her at her word, but I still found myself hiding mine under my shirt when I left my room after eating that morning. It had been a proper age since I'd spoken to Koharu and Masaki, so I decided to search for them while I rested from my great marathon of writing. But once again they were absent from all their usual places: not in the courtyard, nor the common room, nor the end-hall bay window seat. Bemused, I eventually began walking up and down the wing until I came across one of their rooms.</p><p>I found that Koharu's was empty, at which point I began to feel faintly incredulous, but my questions were answered when I peeked into another room down the hall and caught sight of her perched on a chair.</p><p>"Koharu," I called, sticking my head through the doorway. Koharu, who was chewing on a piece of melon bread, turned and looked at me.</p><p>"Oh, Suzu. Hello..."</p><p>She did not seem opposed to my presence, so I stepped inside. Then I caught sight of Masaki sitting on the bed. His face was sullen and his left wrist was handcuffed to a bar on the headboard. I stared, and he glared.</p><p>"...Is this why I haven't seen you guys all week?" I asked eventually.</p><p>"Yeah," Koharu confirmed. She looked just a smidge more unkempt than normal; like me, her hair also appeared to have gone a few days without care. "Masaki got in trouble. He's cuffed until they decide he's not going to assault a doctor again."</p><p>I immediately connected dots. I looked back at Masaki.</p><p>"Did you maybe," I asked slowly, "hit Hayato-sensei?"</p><p>Masaki was silent as he looked away. I turned to Koharu, whose face was all the confirmation I needed.</p><p>"They said Hayato-sensei has a cracked rib, so he's home on call for the rest of the week," she told me.</p><p>"It was his own fault," Masaki spat. "He knew Koharu was in there. He should have called you out instead of bringing that man in."</p><p>This struck me as strangely patronizing, as if Koharu were some sort helpless maiden who needed a white knight to screen every inch of her life. But Koharu was silent as she continued to eat her bread.</p><p>"I don't think that was a good excuse to hit him," I replied doubtfully.</p><p>"Yeah, well, they didn't either." Masaki's scowl deepened. "But in the end he's just another damn adult. I thought he was okay because he's a doctor and because Koharu likes him, but he's just the same as Sensei and they all were."</p><p>I had only ever heard Masaki refer to his sensei once before, so I did not know what exactly kind of woman she had been. I had thought that his comment about nadeshiko flowers had been made because he missed her too much, but I could see clearly now I had been mistaken. He did not hate the flowers because they made him sad; he hated them because he hated her.</p><p>Koharu stood abruptly. "Masaki, I want to go for a walk."</p><p>Masaki's face shifted from angry to dejected in the space of a half-second.</p><p>"Yeah, okay. Sorry," said Masaki. He glanced at me guiltily.</p><p>"...Koharu, can I come with you?" I asked, wondering if I had read that look quite right. Why would he need me to go with her? Was he worried? Considering that he was the one who had assaulted a doctor, it seemed to me that his concern was a little misplaced. Koharu was evidently far better adjusted than he.</p><p>"Sure," she said. She was already halfway to the door. "Let's go."</p><p>Koharu's face was contorted with unhappiness as we walked down the hall. Something really wasn't going right between her and Masaki. But it was clear that I didn't have enough information to parse out the contents of their nonverbal interactions. I had such little context about the two of them. Who was their sensei? What did she do and why did Masaki hate her? Why was he sorry that Koharu wanted to take a walk?</p><p>"Koharu, what's going on?" I finally dared to ask. Until now I hadn't had the courage to pry into their circumstances, but something about talking to Kakashi and writing down the story of Naruto seemed to have settled my gut. I suppose I must have been scared that asking them to divulge their bad pasts would lead to me divulging my own. But somehow deciding to face my memories wasn't as frightening now that I had faced the Earth girl's. I felt like I could do it now.</p><p>Koharu stopped and gave me a look. Then she glanced up and down the hall, found it empty, and wedged herself onto a nearby windowsill. It seemed to be a trait we shared.</p><p>"He's doing it again," she told me.</p><p>"Doing what?"</p><p>"I don't know what to call it. That thing. You know, when he was talking about Hayato-sensei bringing a man to the common room."</p><p>"You mean how he said 'he should have known better'?" I asked, surprised. So she hadn't been as blank as she had appeared.</p><p>"Yeah," she nodded. "Masaki, he—I don't know. I mean—I guess—well, when we first came here, I was a lot worse than I am now. I still freeze up, but before I really started working with Hayato-sensei, just seeing a man could send me screaming from the room depending on the day. It would be really bad. Not just getting up and running away, but really crazy ugly crying… you know?"</p><p>She looked at me uncomfortably. I found myself climbing into my own windowsill opposite her, and I cracked a wry smile.</p><p>"I know exactly what you mean."</p><p>Koharu stared hard at me. And then, slowly, she cracked a smile of her own. A little light seemed to leak into her eyes.</p><p>"I don't know what to say to him," she confessed a moment later. "Because—because Masaki was the only one who was there for me when everything was going wrong. When our sensei… betrayed Konoha."</p><p>So their instructor had been a traitor. That would explain a great many things. I put my arm across my knee and asked quietly, "What happened?"</p><p>Koharu turned her chin away, but she looked at me from the corners of her eyes. "Well, it's kind of a long story. But the short of it was that we were sent to deliver emergency supplies to the western front and our squad got captured. And—well, she was a jounin, you know? They must have thought—they knew she had information. So they tried to interrogate her. But of course she wouldn't speak, right? So… they decided to torture us instead."</p><p>I found myself mirroring her pose as I turned my own face away.</p><p>"That's awful," I whispered.</p><p>Koharu wrung her hands a bit, pursed her lips, and blinked several times. Then she said, "Yeah. It was the worst."</p><p>We both were silent for a long while as we stared out into our respective memories. Then she continued, "They decided to go one at a time with us, but Sensei didn't talk, and Isamu died after a week. I—I have journeyman status as an iryou-nin, so they were going use Masaki next, but their superior was worried that he'd die too quickly, too. So they figured they needed to figure out some sort of non-lethal torture. So, um, basically, they—you know—they tied Sensei down and made her watch while they all… you know. Took turns."</p><p>I put a hand over my face. I had suspected, but it was still terrible to hear.</p><p>"I'm sorry, Koharu."</p><p>Koharu was chewing on her lip when I lifted my fingers. Her hands were clenched and white-knuckled on the windowsill, but she was staring searchingly into my face.</p><p>"It happened to you, too, didn't it?" she asked. "You and your team? Didn't they use you on your sensei, too?"</p><p>My heart broke a little at the hope in her voice. It was—I didn't know what it was. But it was too sad.</p><p>"They did, but… not like that," I shook my head. "They mostly just—broke my ribs, stepped on them, choked me, stuff like that. They weren't worried about killing me or not."</p><p>"Oh." The light in Koharu's eye seemed to dim. I wasn't sure how that made me feel. On the one hand, I wished terribly in that moment that I could have been the girl she had needed. On the other, I couldn't imagine what would have become of me if Hatsuta, Tokiya, and all the ninja from the bunker had raped me in shifts over the course of five days. The result would have been too horrible. I couldn't conceptualize it.</p><p>We fell into another silence. Enough time passed that a nurse actually came by, but he seemed to sense that were struggling hard to sort something out together, so he passed through unobtrusively.</p><p>"After all of that, Sensei talked," Koharu told me after a while. "...She did more than talk. I think they broke her, because she did anything they told her to. Anything."</p><p>I didn't like the sound of that, and I didn't know if I could handle knowing more. But Koharu didn't elaborate. She picked up a piece of her tangled hair and began curling it around her finger.</p><p>"Word of a turncoat jounin must have reached the village. ANBU came for her. I think their mission was actually to eliminate the whole squad, but they didn't in the end."</p><p>I was not surprised to hear that, either, but I was glad it hadn't happened. There was a limit to how twisted a given life ought to be.</p><p>"Why didn't they?" I asked her.</p><p>"Because Masaki had already killed her," Koharu admitted. "He'd stolen one of her knives and had been waiting all week for a chance to stab her. We—we were going a little crazy when they found us. Digging at the walls with our hands, swearing at her body, screaming at her about Isamu. I guess they felt pity. They escaped with us and brought us here instead."</p><p>And this was where they had remained. I let out a shaky breath and ran my fingers through my bangs.</p><p>"Masaki's hated every adult he's met since," she told me quietly. "We were both bad when we first came in, but I… I was really nuts. I wish I had been less hysterical about everything. Everyone was focusing only on me because I was so loud. Even Masaki was. He's still so focused. So focused that even though so much time has passed, he hasn't even started trying to deal with his own stuff." Koharu put her forehead on her knees. "I don't know what to say to him, Suzu. I wouldn't have survived without him. He's like my brother. He carried me through when I was falling apart. But even though Hayato-sensei's been helping me and I'm so much better, it's like—it's almost like… like I'm becoming an excuse. His excuse."</p><p>His excuse not to deal with things. I understood in a moment. So long as he focused on helping Koharu, watching her and protecting her, he wouldn't have time to process his own trauma. So long as he was Koharu's perfect guardian, he would be able to hold himself together. If Koharu looked at him for strength, he would feel like he was strong again. Maybe he thought the mask would become real if he lived in it long enough. Maybe he thought he could skip looking all of that stuff in the eye… just like I had tried to skip looking at <em>Naruto</em>.</p><p>Late morning had passed into afternoon, and now afternoon was beginning to turn red at the edges. Night would approach soon. I looked over my shoulder at the brown grass outside.</p><p>"What will you do?" I eventually queried.</p><p>"I… I think I'll wait," said Koharu. "Hayato-sensei said… said that Masaki would need time. That trauma presents and resolves differently for every person. Maybe it'll take him longer, but eventually he'll get better, too, don't you think? Just… just like I've been getting better."</p><p>I didn't know what I thought of the sound of that brittle, desperate hope, so I tried not to express any emotion as I looked at her. Koharu's face slanted into sorrow.</p><p>We both put our heads down again, feeling suddenly flat and exhausted, and sat together in our windowsills until curfew was called.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. A Single Decision</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That night I was so exhausted I collapsed into bed without thinking hardly of anything. I probably should have expected it considering I'd had the bunker on the brain, but I dreamed of Tokiya and Hatsuta. The odd thing was, though, that I didn't remember the dream. Instead I woke up half-tangled in a blanket, blinded by late-morning sunlight.</p><p>I lifted a clenched fist from my side. Then I put it back and ran my hand over my skin as the sensation of dream-pain faded away. Fog-like anxiety began to dissipate in the warmth of the sun. And then in a moment I sat up and felt no worse for the day's start at all.</p><p>I'd dreamed of the bunker, but the bunker had begun to soften a bit at the edges; it no longer lingered in my mind as an image sharp enough to cut myself on. It did not stick in my head when I tried to turn my thoughts away, but it did not crackle angrily and pick at my consciousness when it went out of sight, either. It was just—just a memory. There if I wanted it. Gone if I needed it to go. Not locked away, not vanished by dissociation, but simply stepped aside.</p><p>The morning went very well for me. Despite everything, Koharu was also oddly cheerful when we met over lunch. If I had known that I'd just begun my final week in the western ward, I am certain we would have celebrated together.</p><hr/><p>The last piece of the puzzle of my strangely fragmented dissociation patterns floated into place when I sat down in front of the mirror and finally began combing out my hair. I had let it go so long that it took nearly twenty minutes to disentangle it. But after some patient effort and a small pile of spent hair later, it fell straight over my shoulders again, and I noticed that my bangs had grown considerably since I'd entered the hospital. I smiled a little as I tucked them behind my ear. I did not consider myself a particularly vain person, but my face suddenly seemed quite pretty.</p><p>Then I was struck vividly with the image of bumping into Minato at the Equipments Office. He'd smiled, made a comment about how I'd grown, and tucked my hair behind my ear after I'd traded my old vest in.</p><p>I abruptly sat back in my chair and understood. In a way, I had never forgotten. The guilt I'd held towards Kakashi had pushed my resolve to finally write the series down, but ever since the night Minato came home from Kannabi Bridge—the night he had sat in the kitchen and talked with Auntie—I had been on fire. But I had tried not to think about it, tried to avoid remembering my responsibility, and so the stress had built up until there were moments I could not even bear to remember being with him—</p><p>"Suzu-san, Hayato-sensei is calling for you!" A nurse appeared in the doorway with a mysterious smile. I started and set down my comb.</p><p>"What is it?" I asked, puzzled. "We weren't scheduled to meet today, were we?"</p><p>"No, but he has something to tell you. Why don't you go on and see for yourself?" her mysterious smile grew a bit.</p><p>Hayato-sensei was sitting at his desk with his folders and his notes spread out before him. He looked quite as though he had never left. It certainly did not seem as if he had been out for a week with a cracked rib. But then again, I thought as he swiveled in his chair rather than rising to greet me as he usually did, looks were very often deceiving.</p><p>"Good morning, Suzu-san," said Hayato-sensei. He was smiling as well. Increasingly bemused, I smiled back.</p><p>"Good morning. How are you?"</p><p>"Much better, thank you for asking. Why don't you have a seat?"</p><p>I sat and eyed him expectantly. He laughed.</p><p>"No need to beat about the bush, then," he said as he turned back to his folders. "I want to administer your discharge eval today. Do you feel up to it?"</p><p>Having slouched a little over the arm of my chair, I sat upright as soon as I had processed these words. I regarded him with an open mouth.</p><p>"Why so shocked, Suzu-san? You'll catch bugs with your jaw hanging open like that," he teased lightly.</p><p>I snapped my jaw shut. Then I asked, "I can leave?"</p><p>"If your evaluation is favorable. By the reports I've received from the staff, though, I'm not too worried."</p><p>I continued to stare at him. Then I asked again, "I can leave?"</p><p>Hayato-sensei's gaze softened a little.</p><p>"This place was never a prison, Suzu-san," he replied kindly. "It was only a place for you to stay while you got well. The village does not mandate shinobi come here because it wants cage them; it does so because it knows that ninja are strong, and that they may need help controlling that strength when they struggle with their pasts."</p><p>"I—" I swallowed. "I don't think I'm done struggling with my past."</p><p>There was still so much to do—people to remember, encounters to unpack, fears to face, regrets and mistakes to address…</p><p>"No, likely not," acknowledged Hayato-sensei. "But you're ready to leave regardless. The struggle will likely go on until the day you die. But the western ward was only a place for you to find your footing, and I think you have it now."</p><p>I brought a hand up and chewed on my lip.</p><p>"Would you like to take the eval today, or shall we wait?" Hayato-sensei asked softly. "If you need to stay longer, you can. They say the war is ending soon. You have all the time you need."</p><p>The war was ending soon? I looked up at him. If the war was ending soon, then—then there was no time. If the war was over, Minato would be Hokage, and if Minato were the Hokage, that was the beginning of the end.</p><p>"No, let's do it today," I said, gripping the hem of my shirt with white knuckles. "There are things I have to do outside. Let's do it today."</p><hr/><p>Koharu regarded me with a wistful smile as I pulled on my socks and began fastening my sandals.</p><p>"Your gear is so stylish," she told me, seated backwards in my chair. "Cute, but not obnoxious or impractical. I love it."</p><p>"Thanks," I grinned. "I sewed it myself."</p><p>"Really?" Koharu's eyebrows rose. "That's amazing. You should make something for me when I get out."</p><p>I smiled warmly.</p><p>"Come by when you do and I'll take your measurements."</p><p>After I had gotten dressed in my own clothes and had carefully stashed my journal in my belt pouch, we took a quick detour to Masaki's room.</p><p>"Hey," I said.</p><p>"Hey," he said back. He was still cuffed to the bar.</p><p>"I was going to walk Suzu to the desk," Koharu told him.</p><p>"Escaping at last, huh? You got in after us, but you're leaving before. I'm jealous."</p><p>"If it's okay with you, I thought I'd visit every now and then until you guys get out," I offered tentatively. Even now I was not quite sure where I stood with Masaki. Masaki, though, smiled at me.</p><p>"That'd be great. Don't forget us while you're out there. Thanks for hanging around with us nutcases."</p><p>I let out a relieved laugh.</p><p>"I should say the same. Thanks for hanging out with me, too."</p><p>Goodbyes so said, Koharu walked me to the intake desk as promised. I spoke with the receptionist, who provided me with paperwork and then confirmed my discharge.</p><p>"Take care," Koharu bade as we gave one another hugs. "I'll look forward to your visits."</p><p>"I'll look forward to fitting you for clothes," I replied.</p><p>Koharu laughed and waved over her shoulder as she turned to leave. As she went, she smiled at the man behind the desk. I wondered if she would not be by to see me sooner than we'd thought.</p><hr/><p>The House reabsorbed me with silent welcome. I had faintly dreaded the thought that my cousins and aunt and uncle would treat me differently, but they were just the same as always. After I got back and life continued on quite as if I'd never left.</p><p>"Oh, good," Auntie hummed warmly when I appeared in the doorway. "There you are. I'm glad I'll have the chance to ask—did you want lemon cake for your birthday this year? It seemed like you enjoyed it last time."</p><p>Life had been so eventful that I'd forgotten I even had a birthday, but as it was I turned twelve just as I was released. An absurdly normal party ensued. There were presents, streamers, candles, and, indeed, lemon cake. My cousins gave me hugs and I got into a wrestling match with Jinta on the living room floor. Haruka tied ribbons to my kunai holster.</p><p>And then the next day we woke up to a village ablaze with news of the war. Minato Namikaze had killed a thousand Iwa shinobi. More than that, he had clashed with the Third Raikage's son on the way to meet with Suna forces and had fought him to a draw to cover his comrades' retreat. This alone would have been enough to stir up the people, but then the two remaining Sannin returned unlooked for from the eastern front with extraordinary tidings: Kumo had put up the white flag. Konoha, predictably, went mad.</p><p>A few days later the Third Hokage dispatched the internationally famous Ino-Shika-Chou trio to deliver an armistice to Iwa. News of a reply from the Tsuchikage broke just as Minato returned to Konoha.</p><hr/><p>The streets were exploding with celebration as I silently hiked up the mountain face looking over the village. Minato had been absolutely unapproachable since his return; everyone wanted a piece of him. They were clamoring for photos, for interviews, for questions about his upcoming inauguration… Even playing the "cute little sister wants to see big brother" card hadn't been enough to get me through his new entourage of hangers-on.</p><p>At that rate there had been no telling when I would get a chance to disclose the contents of the story to him. It might be weeks after his installation before I could. Considering how time sensitive this was becoming, that wasn't an option, so I did the next best thing: I snooped around Intel until I found someone who knew where Jiraiya of the Sannin lived.</p><p>Jiraiya made his home in a tucked-away crevice on the mountain overlooking the village, just west of the Hokage heads. It had been quite hard to grab hold of that information, though. From what I had gathered, it seemed said crevice may or may not have been associated with the entrance of the ANBU Base's residential sector. I had no idea what I thought about that. On the one hand, having a Sannin to be the watchdog of the village's most secretive ninja was brilliant. On the other, Jiraiya was hardly a stable resident of the village, and his work often took him out of the village for months—or years—at a time. I guess people were just counting on the fact that he was a seal master with extensive security traps.</p><p>Still, I was wary knowing I was approaching such a sensitive location, so I was circulating chakra in my ears quite vigorously as I made my way up the small, obscure path. As a result, I was still a ways out of range when the sounds of an argument drifted into my enhanced ears.</p><p>"Sarutobi-sensei wouldn't—"</p><p>"Evidently—"</p><p>"Orochimaru, listen," Jiraiya's booming voice insisted as I made my way to the front door. I halted on a dime.</p><p>Orochimaru?</p><p>"Wait a moment, oaf," a low voice commanded lazily. The door slid open and I found myself staring up into slitted yellow eyes.</p><p>Orochimaru was, in his own way, a handsome man. He was very pale, but something about that lent him a rather classical beauty. His hair was very long and dark. Like any shinobi, his body was also conditioned for fitness, so his figure overall was very regal and impressive.</p><p>"A little rabbit has appeared on your doorstep," the snake Sannin observed rather apathetically. I was struck with the sudden notion that I had been seen admiring his looks and was currently being written off as a shallow and vacuous little girl. I paused and wondered if I wanted to pick a fight with that image, but then decided against it. If a shinobi as dangerous as Orochimaru deemed me inconsequential, that was more than could be hoped for.</p><p>"A what?" Jiraiya appeared behind him. "What do you—oh. You're… eh? You're Minato's kid sister."</p><p>Orochimaru's gaze seem to cool a bit. He eyed me with mild distaste, as if I were a nasty thing he'd found stuck to the bottom of his shoe, and brushed past me to the road.</p><p>"Wh—hey!" Jiraiya started. "We're not done talking!"</p><p>Orochimaru responded by throwing a withering look over his shoulder. It was a bone-chilling glare; even though it was not aimed at me it sent a violent shiver crawling down my spine. Jiraiya deflated as his teammate turned and made his way back down the mountain.</p><p>I put a hand in my belt pouch and watched Orochimaru as he went. Orochimaru… he was not someone I had devoted much thought to. In <em>Naruto</em>, he'd been a man like a cockroach: disgusting and impossible to kill, he had spread disease to everyone he touched. And like a cockroach he'd lived to the end. The Earth girl had never finished watching the end of the series, but she had seen enough glimpses of the sequel about Naruto's son, <em>Boruto</em>, to know that Orochimaru was outliving nearly everyone. (1)</p><p>I didn't know much about how Orochimaru's profile fit into the timeline of the series. He had done a great many things in Konoha and in Root, but when had he done them? By now he would have been experimenting on innocent citizens for some time. Had he met Anko already? When would he defect?</p><p>"What are you doing?" A large hand closed around my forearm. I looked up and saw Jiraiya staring down at me. His face was an odd mix of puzzlement, worry, and foreboding.</p><p>"Don't try it," he continued. "Orochimaru would crush you in an instant. But what reason would you have to attack him, anyway?"</p><p>I found my face folding into impassivity as I looked up at him. My thoughts must have shown on my face. That was no good; Oyuki would have slapped me upside the head if she were here.</p><p>"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied, pulling away from his grip and taking the scroll from my pouch in the same motion. "No chuunin with half a brain would think about taking on Orochimaru of the Sannin." Not alone, anyway.</p><p>I eyed Jiraiya calculatingly. What would he do when he learned about his teammate's future? What would he do when he read about his own death? Who would Jiraiya become in the months to follow?</p><p>"What's with you, then?" he returned my stare. "Something about you's changed since I last saw you. You're making so many uncute faces."</p><p>"Am I?" I asked dryly. "I thought my face had grown more beautiful."</p><p>Jiraiya took on a bit of a helpless look. That was interesting. Nothing ever phased Jiraiya in the series; whatever he hadn't met with a sneer or a gag, he'd met with hard shinobi steel. Perhaps this was what he'd been like before he'd been betrayed. He was still fierce shinobi and a legendary killer, but there were still some soft bits showing on him. He'd probably aged hard in the twelve or so years before Naruto's birth. He'd lost a teammate and a student in that time…</p><p>"I mean, that's not necessarily wrong," he grumbled as he tousled his white hair restlessly. "I'm not saying you're not pretty. But that's not—argh, I mean—"</p><p>As amusing as it was to see a twelve-year-old make a man twice her size squirm, I figured this was where the comedy routine ought to stop. I cut him off by holding the scroll out to him.</p><p>"...What's this?"</p><p>"It's intel," I decided to call it. "It's not sanctioned or anything, but I'd class it as S-rank sensitivity. Be careful—I didn't have time to code it when I copied it over. It's raw."</p><p>Now he was giving me a properly incredulous look. Well, whatever public image he tried to cultivate, Jiraiya was a spymaster at heart, and this was possibly the worst intel trade-off he'd ever participated in. In broad daylight, out of doors, two conspicuous figures… we'd even had a witness. Still, it wasn't as if Jiraiya and I had any established ciphers or signals, and there was no time to go about this with any more finesse. This information had to be handed over now, before it was too late.</p><p>Jiraiya squinted at me dubiously.</p><p>"Are you Suzu Namikaze?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"What's this about?" He looked at the scroll.</p><p>"...It's complicated, but it's probably enough to say that it's information about the destruction of Konoha and her Hokage."</p><p>That had a focusing effect. Jiraiya gave me a sharp glare.</p><p>"That's not a funny joke, kid. I know your brother's busy, but you should know better than to cry for attention with something like that."</p><p>"It's not a joke." I put a hand on my face, exhaled, and noticed that my fingers were beginning to tremble. My nerve, evidently, was fraying fast; perhaps it was time to withdraw. "Just read it and find me later. I'm going home now. I'm tired..."</p><p>Jiraiya must have seen me start to shake because he didn't press the point as I began to retreat. And as I walked away, leaving my secret between the Toad Sage's fingers, the decision I had agonized over was taken out of my hands forever.</p><hr/><p>Konoha partied hard when Minato became the Hokage. I think people had enjoyed themselves—as they had a right to after so many years of suffering—but I also felt something raw and painful at the edges of their energy. They pushed ferociously to have fun; they knocked back gallons of alcohol; they sang hoarsely at the top of their lungs, and by so doing they hid any trace of waver in their voices. When they woke up the next day, they were aching with more than just hangover. But this time the morning brought hope with it rather than despair, and that retroactively made the previous night's undercurrent of bitter mourning into something a little more more palatable. It seemed to me that healing might begin soon.</p><p>A little time later I finally found my way to Itsuki-sensei again. I found his shop in the market, talked to him, and eventually stayed a night in his extra bedroom. The next morning I helped him stock the store. The way we stood together and silently sorted persimmons somehow seemed more meaningful than any of the training I'd done in the past two years. It wasn't hard, but it was work. Honest, bloodless work—livelihood made on something clean.</p><p>A little while later were sitting on stools near the back, peeling oranges and kumquats to make into marmalade, when Itsuki-sensei asked at a length, "What ever became of Akihiko-kun?"</p><p>Most people in the know would never ask me about Akihiko so baldly, but somehow it didn't hurt when the query came from Itsuki-sensei. If anything, I found I wanted to tell him. He had a right to know.</p><p>"He joined ANBU," I told him. I didn't feel the same compunction about telling him as I had Kakashi. "Though I guess technically he's not an ANBU as such. He's a Special Forces apprentice. There was an undercover ANBU captain who ran with us on a mission to Earth Country who recruited him."</p><p>Itsuki-sensei's eyebrows rose as he lowered his knife.</p><p>"So he left you? Just like that?"</p><p>I was silent for a long moment as I set down my own half-peeled fruit. Then I said, "No. I guess it's more like I left him."</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>"Susumu tried to recruit us both," I admitted. "But I turned him down. It didn't even occur to Akihiko that we wouldn't go together, and he didn't find out I'd declined until he was already heading out to the ANBU Base. I… it wasn't good. We didn't part on good terms, Sensei."</p><p>Something about sadness had permeated Itsuki-sensei's being since we had reunited, but never did it show as prominently on him as it did just then. As he picked up his knife and resumed peeling, he commented quietly, "It's a hard life in ANBU."</p><p>"I know."</p><p>"He hasn't contacted you since?"</p><p>"No, I haven't heard a word. I thought about trying to find him from my end, but…"</p><p>"It's not a small matter to put yourself in communication with any person attached to ANBU," Sensei noted. "I doubt very much anyone from the General Forces would succeed without specific connections."</p><p>"Got it in one," I sighed glumly. "I couldn't do it even after establishing myself in Intel."</p><p>"He's been there for two years?" Itsuki-sensei's face was increasingly concerned.</p><p>"Not quite that long. A year and some months."</p><p>"And not a word to you, his only remaining childhood friend? Even if you quarreled, that's…"</p><p>"His father hasn't heard much from him either," I confided. "I went to him when I couldn't contact Akihiko on my own, but he doesn't have a way to look in on him, either."</p><p>"That's not healthy." Itsuki-sensei shook his head. "There's no way he's constructed a sufficient support system in the Special Forces that quickly. And even if he has, that's still not good enough. It's standard practice for ANBU to have a touchstone on the outside, but if it's not you and it's not his father, I'm not sure if he has one at all."</p><p>"How do you know so much about it?" I asked curiously.</p><p>Itsuki-sensei glanced at the door. People were milling about on the street busily, but no one turned in our way.</p><p>"I was a touchstone for a while," he confessed. "For someone from my Academy class. We remained fairly good friends even after everyone split into different careers... he picked me when we were seventeen or so. He's been dead for a little while now, though."</p><p>I raised my eyebrows. I never expected Itsuki-sensei might have such a connection to ANBU. No wonder he was so worried; he probably had great insight into what Akihiko's life must be like now.</p><p>"...Maybe things won't be so bad for him now that the war is over," I said, but the optimism sounded quite false even in my ears. I thought of Koharu and Masaki's sensei, Airi Sonohara, and the ANBU team that had been dispatched to silence her. "Maybe the bad missions are over now?"</p><p>"Maybe," Itsuki-sensei said with tangible doubt.</p><p>And then, as we found ourselves sitting silently again, Kakashi appeared before us with a mission scroll in hand.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Sakuya (1)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Who's this?" Itsuki-sensei asked politely. I could tell by the look on his face he knew exactly who Kakashi of the Sharingan was, so I figured his real question was something closer to "Why is this famous village jounin standing in my shop looking at you, Suzu?"</p><p>"Sensei, this is Kakashi Hatake, my teammate on Team 7," I introduced quickly. "Kakashi, this is Itsuki Mikawaya. He was my sensei on Team 11. We're catching up after a long time apart."</p><p>"Hello," greeted Kakashi.</p><p>"Hello," replied Itsuki-sensei. He was too good to let it show on his face, but despite the long absence of Oyuki's guidance I found I still had the eyes to read the wariness in his eyes. I wondered if he had experienced a lot of harassment from fellow jounin since his retirement.</p><p>Kakashi, though, was still quite infected with the kindness bug. Instead of making some comment or another, he used polite speech, apologized for interrupting us, and asked if he could speak to his teammate, please, Mikawaya-sensei.</p><p>"Go ahead," Itsuki-sensei said. "No need to call me sensei anymore. Suzu-chan only does it out of habit, I think."</p><p>"You'll always be my sensei," I replied. I think Itsuki-sensei might have blushed if he were a blushing sort of man; as it was, he looked away with a wistful half-smile and waved me off.</p><p>"I'll come by again," I told him as I stood. He nodded silently and began peeling the fruit once more.</p><p>Kakashi had relocated while Sensei and I were speaking and was waiting impassively for me outside. I almost immediately began tugging my scarf tighter, but he looked unfazed by the cold.</p><p>"What is it, Kakashi?"</p><p>"The Missions Office sent me a notice this morning," he replied. "We're back on active duty."</p><p>That was to be expected. Kakashi had cleared his eval with only a follow up, and I had been out of the western ward for two weeks now. It was about time we got back to work.</p><p>"I take it you've become the commander of Team 7? Since our captain is the Hokage now."</p><p>"More or less," he shrugged. "Though with two people we could hardly be called a team."</p><p>There was a twinge of guilt in his voice. I looked at him, concerned, and said, "You know, Kakashi… She jumped in front of you. You couldn't have helped any of that."</p><p>"Let's go inside to brief." Kakashi blatantly ignored me and began strolling towards an oden store across the street. He stuck his hands in his pockets with forced nonchalance. Doubtfully, I followed after him but didn't say anything more.</p><p>I was swiftly distracted once we stepped inside. Almost immediately heads began to turn, and in a moment it felt as if the whole shop were staring at us. I reflexively began to inch behind Kakashi, who gave the people a cursory glance before making his way over to a booth in the corner.</p><p>"What's going on?" I asked in a whisper as I slid into the seat across from him. "Why are they staring at us?"</p><p>Kakashi looked at me. Then he reached into his belt pouch, pulled out a book, and said, "Here."</p><p>The book in question was an international Bingo Book. I was still for a moment. Then I put a hand on my head.</p><p>"No way. Really?"</p><p>"Look for yourself."</p><p>I quickly flipped the thin volume open and went to the red Fire Country tab. Entries were organized by descending rank, so the first few pages were all household names: the Snake Sannin, the Toad Sage, the Slug Princess, the Professor, and, of course, the newly inaugurated Yondaime Hokage, the Yellow Flash.</p><p>And, apparently, his students.</p><p>Appended to his entry were two little portraits. Photography was a precarious endeavor in this universe, so most all of the profile pictures contained in the book were sketches. Kakashi's masked countenance was on the right and mine was on the left. It was very rough, and no one would probably really be able divine my actual facial features from it, but the image was certainly that of a girl with a blond ponytail.</p><p>"Kakashi of the Sharingan and Konoha's Bloody Threads," I read slowly.</p><p>"They bumped my rank up to A in this edition," Kakashi noted. "Probably an effect of perfecting Chidori."</p><p>I was a rank B. Compared to Kakashi's entry mine was quite sparse. My personal name was unknown so I had only this moniker, "the Bloody Threads," to identify me. The only other information available was that my signature weapon was ninja wire, that I was dangerous in close- to mid-range, and that I had defeated an Iwa company singlehandedly.</p><p>"Reading this makes me seem more fearsome than I am," I said after a long moment.</p><p>"But it's not an inaccurate report," Kakashi pointed out. "Is there any way to look at thirty dismembered and beheaded ninja and call it nonthreatening?"</p><p>I only had silence to answer that. Then I shut the Bingo Book and pushed it back across the table, feeling faintly sick. Everyone knew about the Iwa company now. Minor or not, I was an official international killer with a bounty on my head.</p><p>"What's the mission?" I asked, no longer wishing to dwell. Kakashi accepted his book back and put it away without protest. Then he broke the seal on the mission scroll and opened it.</p><p>"B rank," he reported after a moment of reading. "Four to six weeks. Location is a mining village on the Kusa border. The village chief suspects someone from Iwa has been illegally extracting ore from their mines and has requested a team from Konoha investigate and, if possible, expel the thieves. The higher mission rank is due to the potential contact with Iwa-nin."</p><p>"That's…" I stared a little incredulously at him. "That's an awfully problematic mission to accept when the armistice is less than a month old. This almost guarantees a hostile encounter between Leaf- and Rock-nin. Who authorized this?"</p><p>It reeked something awful of politics. And with this timing? As I had just discovered, Kakashi and I were currently in wide view. If two well-known Konoha shinobi were caught in a fight with Iwa ninja now it would doubtlessly be an international incident.</p><p>"I don't know," Kakashi said. He was also regarding the scroll with a dubious look.</p><p>We were quiet for a moment. Then I asked, "Is someone in the village administration trying to restart the war?"</p><p>If it was a person who could manipulate mission approval it had to be someone of high authority. Certainly not someone we could take on without help. Well, we could bring this mission to Minato and contest it, but was that a good idea? He barely had a foot in his own office. What would it look like if the first thing he did as Hokage was overturn a mission for his two former students? What would we look like? Two kids fresh off standby, trying to foist off a mission by going to their sensei...</p><p>Kakashi did not rebuke me for my speculation, which indicated that he likely had followed a similar train of thought.</p><p>"What do you want to do?" I asked. I couldn't see a way out of this, but maybe he had an idea. He was a genius and a prodigy, after all. Perhaps he could construct an effective plan.</p><p>Kakashi, though, put a hand on his chin and slowly shook his head. "I can't see any other option but to carry out the mission," he admitted. "There's no choice. We'll just have to be extremely cautious."</p><p>In tactics there were a variety of ways to respond to a trap. Most often the best choice was to avoid it altogether, but there were times when the costs of evading an ambush were so prohibitive that it was just as bad, if not worse, as falling into the scheme. In those cases it became a gamble: evade and take the damage, or spring the trap and try to maneuver out.</p><p>It seemed that we were going to take the latter option. It wasn't worth it to jeopardize Minato's still-unstable position. He was a great ninja and an undeniably popular war hero, but he still had many doubters and detractors. And their grievances held weight that appealed to the older generation: worries about how young he was, about his administrative capability, if he was not just a puppet ruler who would be manipulated to extend the Professor's reign…</p><p>It had never occurred to me that Hiruzen Sarutobi had been a controversial leader, or that his resignation and Minato's appointment had been due to the pressure of that controversy. In Naruto's time the Sandaime had been respected and trusted, but here in the present there was a faction of villagers who were extremely critical of his administration. The Third Shinobi World War, lasting for over ten years, had brought Konoha lower than it ever had been. Why, they asked, had this war gone on so much longer than the previous ones, and why under this leadership? The armistice itself was also the greatest point of issue. Though Konoha has been poised to truly annihilate the Rock-Cloud alliance by the end, the Sandaime had closed the conflict without any sort of demand for reparations. To those who had lost entire families, friends, businesses—it was unthinkable. They had been thirsty for vengeance, but the Sandaime threw it away.</p><p>He had, in a way, sacrificed himself and his leadership for the peace. A true peace, not just a stop in open fighting. What sort of conflict would have awaited in the future if the Konoha alliance had slammed its enemies with burdensome monetary and military reparations? What would trade restrictions have done to the economy of the Five Great Nations? I thought of the world wars from the Earth girl's universe. Had their second war not started, at least in part, because of the resentments caused by the provisions of the first war's treaty? The Sandaime must have known. It was after I realized that that I came to see the Third as the most silent of unsung heroes. What he had done or had failed to do in that distant TV future was hardly a thought in my mind.</p><p>Kakashi and I began planning. Then we split for a while to gather our supplies and conduct independent preparations. I stopped by D&amp;FA to get a sitrep on the Kusa border and advice about how to handle the potential political complications of the mission. Many of the reactions I got were the same as Kakashi's and mine had been—who in their right mind would authorize such a mission?</p><p>Twenty minutes later I went away loaded with scrolls detailing every possible bit of information about the situation at the border. Trade routes (there were many), renowned merchants (an oligopoly), notable families (mostly the merchants)—rather overkill for a B rank mission, but considering the circumstances, it was better to know more than less. Besides, it was not nearly as much studying as I&amp;E agents did ahead of their assignments. During my apprenticeship there had been a Yamanaka infiltrator who had prepped for a whole half-year before going into the capital as support for the spymaster in the daimyo's court.</p><p>I absorbed what info I could and then stuffed the rest into a storage scroll for downtime reading. Then I stopped by the House to grab gear, supplies, and to let my family know I would be going out of country for a new mission. Auntie Reiko and Uncle Souhei, who were sitting across from one another at the tea table on the sitting room floor, looked up as I came down the stairs.</p><p>"Hi, obasan," I said. "Hi, ojisan. What are you up to?"</p><p>"Having a strategy meeting," Uncle Souhei replied. He looked a trifle weary.</p><p>"Don't mind us," said Auntie. "Are you going out? Do you have a mission?"</p><p>I told them about the assignment and explained the circumstances. By the end of it they were both frowning.</p><p>"It's just the two of you?" Auntie asked.</p><p>"Considering Kakashi's rank, someone might say that the mission is actually over-staffed," I observed in reply. "A jounin is more than enough to handle a B-rank."</p><p>Uncle Souhei eyed me with an unreadable look. Then he asked, "Who authorized this mission?"</p><p>I just put a hand on my face and began to laugh.</p><hr/><p>We left the village at a brisk but even pace. It was a marvel how far I had come since I first left Konoha on that disastrous message run; my top sprinting speed as a genin all those years ago was only an energetic jog now. With longer legs, more chakra, and better control, I found I was keeping pace even with a jounin like Kakashi.</p><p>The journey took about four days' time at that pace. As we drew closer to the border and the trees began to thin, and I signaled at him to stop. We halted in the boughs of a large tree.</p><p>"What is it?" asked Kakashi. "Did you hear someone?"</p><p>"No, that's not it. I was just thinking—do you suppose it's a good idea to just show up looking like this?" I motioned to our clothes, hair, and general appearance. "Since we're trying not to draw attention to ourselves…"</p><p>Kakashi gave me a calculating look.</p><p>"Do you have civilian clothes on you?"</p><p>Even though I was currently attached to a general platoon, I was still an I&amp;E shinobi, so it was slightly hilarious of him to even ask. Kakashi seemed to realize the silliness of his question after a moment and cleared his throat.</p><p>"What did you have in mind?" I asked as I swung my pack off my shoulder. I had commoner's clothes loose in my pack, but the magic of fuuinjutsu also allowed me access to a whole wardrobe of outfits suitable for every class from pauper to minor princess. I even had a few of my embroidery projects stowed inside in case I needed high-class props.</p><p>"You said merchant caravans often traffic this region, didn't you?"</p><p>"Yeah, that's right. According to D&amp;FA, two major trading routes intersect here in Kinoko Valley. The Junbei line runs east-west and the Kourei line runs northwest-south. Both are major arteries in the metal market's network."</p><p>I began pulling out traveling clothes. Brand new clothes and sandals would be suspicious, so they were purposely a little worn and raggedy at the edges. Kakashi nodded approvingly.</p><p>"Kids separated from their caravan?" I suggested. "Maybe cousins who were late returning from the market in Yurisou-shi, cutting through the countryside to catch up with a Watanabe train traveling on the Junbei line."</p><p>"A Watanabe caravan? Why not the Machida?"</p><p>The Machida traders were well-known across all of the Elemental Countries and were a household name even in Konoha. I was not surprised by his question.</p><p>"You'd think they would be the better choice because they're major in the metal markets and they have so many associates," I mused, "but when I spoke with my friends in D&amp;FA they said we'd better not. Apparently there's infighting going on. If we proclaim ourselves associates of one branch or another we might get into trouble, either with the other branch or with their backers. The Watanabe, on the other hand, are big enough to have an assortment of associates while still having minimal structure. Pretty much anyone can pull carriages for them as long as the family gets their kickback, so they're ideal for impersonation."</p><p>Kakashi seemed somewhat taken aback this sudden deluge of information, but after a moment he began to look thoughtful.</p><p>"Having Intel connections is more useful than I anticipated," he mused.</p><p>"We do our best," I replied a little dryly. No doubt an I&amp;E shinobi was, at this very moment, sitting on a merchant train somewhere and taking notes about all the drama.</p><p>We changed right there on the tree, keeping the inner layers of our gear concealed beneath the thick winter fabrics. As expected Kakashi could not keep his ninja's mask on while impersonating a civilian, but he replaced it with a forest-green scarf while my back was turned. I gave him a bit of a look, but he only looked inexpressively back at me.</p><p>"Luckily we've left Fire Country, so my hair won't make me unusual," I commented as I took it out of its ponytail and let it fall down my back. I pulled out a sealing scroll and emptied a stash of wooden hair sticks into my lap while Kakashi put on a conical hat to hide his own unusual hair color. A braid and a bun later I was also finished, and I resealed the remainder of my kanzashi without much further ado.</p><p>After we had dropped down from the tree and had been walking for some time, snow began to fall on the path in front of us. I eyed the sky for a moment. Then I went into my embroidery scroll, found a long cloth, wrapped it twice around my neck, and then pulled it over my head to make a hood. It was a brightly patterned pink fabric, just the sort of thing a twelve-year-old girl ought to have liked, so it felt like a good addition to the costume.</p><p>"In a way, it's good for you, too," I said as I rummaged some more and found a cloth that matched Kakashi's scarf. "You'll be able to cover your head even when you can't use the hat."</p><p>Kakashi accepted the cloth somewhat bemusedly. Then he asked, "Why are you carrying all of this?"</p><p>"I'm a seamstress in my spare time."</p><p>"But you're on a mission. You wouldn't be carrying sewing supplies for fun even if you do have fuuinjutsu."</p><p>"It's part of my infil kit," I confessed as I kicked a pebble on the road. "I was training to be a domestic infiltrator during my apprenticeship. They're embroidery props."</p><p>Kakashi reexamined the fabric in his hand and found that a half-finished shower of gingko leaves was stitched into it. He stared.</p><p>"There shouldn't be any needles in it even though it's unfinished," I assured him. "I checked them all before I put them in."</p><p>Kakashi regarded me with another bemused look.</p><p>"Were you really meant to join ANBU?" he asked.</p><p>It figured he hadn't forgotten that slip. I sighed and blew at my bangs.</p><p>"There's a reason I'm not with them now. I know I'm not suited to that kind of work."</p><p>"But someone tried to get you to apprentice in the Special Forces?" he clarified.</p><p>"...Yes. Don't go spreading it around."</p><p>Kakashi seemed to ask me with his eye if he looked like a gossipmonger. I just gave him an exasperated look. But in the end it was my fault for talking to begin with; I needed to keep a better hold of my tongue.</p><p>Several minutes passed in silence after that. Eventually, though, Kakashi said, "You know all about Team 7 and what happened to us. But I don't know what happened to you and Team 11."</p><p>I glanced at him sidelong.</p><p>"Are you asking?"</p><p>Kakashi seemed to hesitate for a moment. But then he nodded.</p><p>I looked up at the sky. Well, wasn't it fair? I had seen Kakashi's worst moments. I had been privy to nearly every detail about Kannabi Bridge and I had done nothing to stop it. Didn't he deserve to hear about my ill-fated team?</p><p>"We got captured by Iwa-nin while delivering a message to Tatsumi River," I finally said. "They killed my teammate Yoshiya and Sensei snapped before we were rescued. My other teammate Akihiko and I ran orphan missions together for a while after that, but about a year and a half ago we met an ANBU captain on a supply run to the western front. I wanted to stay in the General Forces so Akihiko joined without me. I apprenticed in I&amp;E awhile after that, but there was a mandatory transfer. You know the rest."</p><p>"You never intended to return to the general platoons?" Kakashi questioned with surprise.</p><p>"No." I looked away. After meeting Itsuki-sensei again, I had actually begun to wonder if I wanted to remain in the General Forces at all. But Kakashi didn't need to know that. "...There are people waiting for me back in I&amp;E. I intend return to them if I get the chance. I know Team 7's not my home." How long I would stay with I&amp;E after returning was different a question, but until I actually had a chance to transfer back, it was a moot point anyway.</p><p>Kakashi went strangely silent after that. Eventually I fell into thoughts about my career. I wondered whether Naoto, Anzu, and Oyuki would be upset if I tried to retire before I put in a few years with them at I&amp;E. Maybe I wouldn't wait to transfer back if I was going to quit. Maybe I ought to do it before I went back to them.</p><p>—But no. I couldn't quit being a ninja. Not yet. When I got back to the village, I would speak with Jiraiya again. There was quite a bit more to do before I could even think of leaving.</p><hr/><p>We arrived in the village just as dusk was falling. It seemed that this was not the first time traders had come through playing catch-up to a caravan; one of the villagers actually went out of her way to point us in the direction of the village chief's residence. Summarily we went to his house, surreptitiously flashed our hitai-ate at him, and were quickly ushered inside.</p><p>Kakashi and I presented ourselves in all our snowed-on civilian glory and were met with a brief episode of incredulous doubt. But eventually the chief, named Kubo, paused long enough for us to explain our incognito appearance and offered us his spare room to stay in for the duration of the mission. In short order Kakashi and I set up shop in the back and began planning our next move.</p><p>First of all I dumped all of the reading D&amp;FA had given me onto the floor for his perusal. We spent a goodly hour consolidating our knowledge, though we had to stop every now and again so I could translate all of the Intel lingo and annotations for Kakashi. After that step was done, we began preliminary information gathering. It was decided that Kakashi would stay in with Kubo to go over his account and to examine the bookkeeping for the mines. My task would be to go into the village, put my demeanor training to good use, and cross-examine the residents. Subtly, of course.</p><p>It proved to be a frustrating exercise. They were aflame with gossip, and speculation about the ongoing thefts (or claimed thefts, in the speech of some) was rampant, but no one had anything of true substance to report. A frightful four hours later saw me return to Kakashi with an armload of ghost stories, embezzlement accusations, and even an elaborate conspiracy theory.</p><p>"Is that all you got?" he asked me, dismayed, from across a sea of ledgers.</p><p>"Just about," I sighed. "The rest was all chatter about the harvest, the recent earthquakes, the village cats…"</p><p>Kakashi returned a sigh of his own.</p><p>"I'm the same," he reported glumly. "Kubo claims he saw a figure in shinobi gear when he went to check out the mines last month, but even disregarding the credibility of that encounter, it's hardly anything to go off of. I'm trying to see if any patterns emerge in the records… I'll let you know if anything comes up."</p><p>We spent a moment in brooding solidarity. I looked out the window at the setting sun and propped my chin on my fist in thought. Then I paused.</p><p>"Here's an idea," I began slowly. Kakashi looked up at me.</p><p>"What is it?"</p><p>I went over to my pack and began digging through my seals. Eventually I found my training scrolls and went through them until I found the volume on surveillance and security jutsu.</p><p>"Let me go investigate the mines," I requested as I opened the scroll and began scanning the techniques. "Before we started the unit on ciphering Oyuki told me there are jutsu that can be used by chakra sensitives to detect the remnants of chakra emissions."</p><p>"Isn't that a skill restricted to olfactory sensors?" Kakashi regarded me quizzically.</p><p>"Not necessarily. Natural gustatory sensors can do it too depending on how old the emission is. But this is actually a different class of technique altogether, or so it seems. Olfactory and gustatory sensors detect aged emissions through their own bodily abilities of perception. Techniques like these, on the other hand, actually function by releasing one's own chakra into the environment and using an alternative sensory ability to canvas…" I read aloud, increasingly intrigued, and then scanned ahead to look at the technique's actual mechanism. "Oh. Hm. That's interesting."</p><p>"What is?" Kakashi rose then and made to look over my shoulder. I quickly flattened my palms over the text and hunched over to hide the scroll beneath my chest. He stopped short and regarded me with a look of pique.</p><p>"Sorry," I apologized. "These are actually Yin Release techniques shared with us by the Yamanaka clan. Since they're not ours, dissemination outside the unit is forbidden. I'm permitted to discuss their general function with outsiders in case an explanation is needed mid-mission, but I can't actually share the workings of the techniques with non-I&amp;E personnel."</p><p>Kakashi looked very off-put for a moment. Then he looked away and sat back down amongst the ledgers.</p><p>"Do you carry sensitive jutsu information around in your pack like that on every mission?" he asked after a while.</p><p>"There are genjutsu-based security seals keyed to my chakra," I replied. "If you tried to read it on your own you wouldn't be able to. It would look like nonsense, or like something else innocuous, like a set of essays about some other topic."</p><p>Kakashi turned and gave me an incredulous look.</p><p>"Tuned to your chakra specifically?" he asked doubtfully.</p><p>"They're standard in most infil kits," I explained. "Oyuki fitted me with a whole set of locks a little after I joined the unit. For ninja who take long-term missions, or have to carry a lot of references with them, it's important to become familiar with them early on…" I trailed off. As an apprentice it went without saying I had to carry a lot of reading with me, but Kakashi was already turning back to his books with a sudden air of distant silence, and I got the feeling that he was no longer in the mood to talk to me.</p><p>I quietly gathered up my materials and excused myself. He made no move to stop me as I slid open the door and set my eyes in the direction of the mines, so I figured I was free to do as I wished. Pulling my shawl over my shoulders and my hood over my head, I set out across the yard and began walking down the path with scroll in hand, musing silently on the future as I went.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Sakuya (2)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crouched behind a boulder a couple hundred feet from the entrance, I circulated chakra in my ear once more, hoping that I had misheard it. But alas, the replying melody left no room for doubt at all. There was a chuunin standing outside. And not just any chuunin, I thought darkly as I sat back on my heels and pushed my bangs out of my face. That was the twang of a Rock shinobi. Kubo had been right after all. For whatever reason, Iwa ninja were involved in this mine, and this mission was just as dangerous as we had anticipated.</p><p>I tucked my reference scrolls into my sleeves and sank deep into thought. More likely than not he was surveilling. That meant he was aware that I was here—and that I had been here for some time. How was I going to explain my way out of that? I was still dressed like a civilian and I hadn't used any loud or flashy skills that would have given me away to someone outside, so that was good. But what business would a kid from a Watanabe caravan have in a mine attached to a minor village on the Kusa border? For what reason would she have spent nearly an hour and a half inside? There wasn't anything. Not really. Unless…</p><p>Fifteen minutes later, after I had sprinted a suicide drill from my boulder to the back wall, I stuck my fingers in my hair and pulled my bun into loose disarray. Then I put my hands into my pockets, located a bottle of eyedrops, and squirted a generous amount into each eye. To finish off, I dashed the palms of my hands against the rough ground, drew blood, and then promptly began sprinting—at civilian speed this time—out the mine's entrance.</p><p>The result was cinematic. I charged sobbing into my observer, red-faced and teary-eyed, and flailed about for a solid five seconds. Then I calmed down and put my hands on my knees, trembling.</p><p>"Holy crap," the Iwa chuunin said, absolutely flabbergasted. "Are you okay?"</p><p>He was, I observed, my age, or perhaps a little older. He had blond hair and brown, almond-shaped eyes; he, too, was dressed in a winter kimono and haori. Currently he was staring at me in astonishment.</p><p>"S-Sorry," I gasped, half for effect, half because his bug eyes were extremely comedic and made me want to burst out laughing. "I… I got lost. I was exploring, but I… didn't keep track of where I was going. I don't know how long I was stuck in there. It felt like hours."</p><p>I straightened up then and shook out my hands, making sure he saw the scrapes as I did so. I thought with regret that I should have torn a hole in the fabric over one of my knees. That would have been a more convincing way to imply I had been tripping about in a panic.</p><p>"Oh," the boy said, and a bit of the incredulity in his expression began to drain away. "That's pretty scary. Why'd you go in if you don't know the place? Are you not from around here?"</p><p>"No, I'm from a trading family with a Watanabe caravan. My cousin and I got separated from the train so we're waiting in the village until they come by."</p><p>"Your cousin?" the boy regarded me with an inquisitive look. I took silent note of his interest and filed it away for later.</p><p>"Yeah, he's back in the village. He's probably wondering where I am now…" I groaned as if I were anticipating a lecture upon return. Then I turned a question of my own. "Are you from the village? I went around saying hello to people all afternoon, but I don't think I saw you."</p><p>"Oh, no," the boy quickly denied. "I'm from—the neighboring village, actually. It's about a half hour away. I was visiting one of my friends."</p><p>"Oh," I said. It would be too obvious to ask for his friend's name, so I refrained. "My name's Suzuka. What's yours?" I inquired instead, fishing for more information.</p><p>"I'm… Kazuma," the boy replied. "Nice to meet you, Suzuka-san."</p><p>"Nice to meet you, too, Kazuma-kun." I smiled my friendly social smile. "My cousin and I are staying at the village chief's house. If you visit your friend again, why don't you come say hello to us, too? The caravan's not due for a while, so it'd be nice to make friends while we wait."</p><p>Maybe it was a risk to be so forthright about our location, but a single evening of eavesdropping on village gossip would be enough for him to figure out where we were staying anyway. Not mention offering the information without prompting would make for good smokescreen.</p><p>"Oh, um, sure," Kazuma said, looking suddenly spooked. I recognized that look—it was the look of someone who was worried about getting too deep into a shallow lie. Oyuki had slapped me upside the head more than once for wearing that face. Though I was hardly a seasoned infiltrator, Kazuma seemed to be even more inexperienced than I was.</p><p>"Uh, my brother told me to be home by sundown," he said quickly. "I'd—I'd better go."</p><p>And sure enough, that was panic. He was forgetting his cover story. The afternoon was waning, it was true, but Kazuma had claimed his village was only a half hour away. There was plenty of sunlight for a half hour's walk, but he was acting as if he had farther to go—which meant, in all likelihood, that he did.</p><p>Incognizant of this glaring red flag, Kazuma turned and made a hasty retreat. I smiled again as he threw a haphazard wave over his shoulder.</p>
<hr/><p>"You're back late," Kakashi commented from the veranda. He was standing expectantly with his arms crossed; he must have been waiting for me. Pakkun, who had been laying at his feet, stood and jumped into the bushes as I removed my shoes and joined him on the engawa.</p><p>"Sorry," I apologized. "I ran into a bit of a complication."</p><p>"Oh? What—" Kakashi paused and then squinted at my face. "...What's wrong?"</p><p>"Huh?" I blinked at his sudden concern, and he motioned to my eyes. "Oh! Nothing's wrong. Let me explain," I laughed as I fished out my bottle of artificial tears.</p><p>"It's some luck he just so happened to be there at the same time you decided to investigate," Kakashi mused after I had related the details of my encounter. "I wonder…"</p><p>"You wonder?"</p><p>"Well, tell me what you found first."</p><p>"Ah," I said. "It was interesting. At first I thought I was doing the technique wrong, but I checked again when I got outside the mines..."</p><p>"Oh?"</p><p>"Well, the thing is—you know how every living being generates chakra, even civilians?"</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>"There was no traces of chakra emissions at all in the mines, to an unnatural degree. Even untrained civilians should have been leaving at least minuscule traces behind, but the whole place was wiped clean. It was completely blank."</p><p>"Meaning someone erased the emissions," Kakashi inferred. "And the only ones who would bother to do that… that'd be ninja covering up residual traces of a jutsu."</p><p>"Exactly. Even if I hadn't met Kazuma there, it's more than enough indication that shinobi are involved. For thoroughness' sake I checked the villagers' tools, too, and nothing was suspicious or overworn. It's unlikely they're responsible."</p><p>Kakashi sat back on his haunches with a thoughtful look in his eye. He was silent for a brief moment. Then he said, "I'll give Kazuma's description to the dogs and tell them to keep a lookout while they keep the perimeter. I have a feeling they're about to make a move."</p><p>I tilted my head questioningly.</p><p>"While you were gone I viewed the records on the mines' monthly output for the past year. The irregularities started a few months before the armistice was signed—the total monthly profits decreased by about seven percent, compared to last year's production. So I began looking at the weekly records, and I discovered that the dips always occur in a single week as opposed to over the course of the whole month," he informed. "The week this occurs seems to shift erratically—half a year isn't enough to pick out a definite pattern—so I can't say anything for certain, but I looked at this month's figures and noticed that a dip hasn't occurred yet..."</p><p>"It's the end of the month," I observed. "If what you say is true, it will have to happen this week."</p><p>"Exactly." Kakashi nodded.</p><p>It was good news in its own way. I thought it would have taken longer for a window of opportunity to emerge, but it seemed like we had arrived at precisely the right time. If I hadn't known better, I would have been tempted to say that the mission was shaping up to more straightforward than I thought. But in addition to how badly that would be tempting fate, the only thing this discovery really meant was that we were charging into a confrontation with Rock ninja even sooner than we had anticipated, so there was no celebration to be had there.</p><p>"Well, the picture is certainly coming together now," I commented, "but that still leaves one question. Just what business do Iwa ninja have stealing from a small-time mining village like this? If they needed new iron sources, it would be far faster to just buy the land outright. That is, if a mine as tiny as this one could ever serve the needs of a village the size of Iwagakure."</p><p>Kakashi opened his mouth to respond, but then a violent shaking interrupted him. We paused as the ground rocked forcefully, knocking decorative fans and paintings down from the guest room's walls.</p><p>"The locals mentioned there had been a lot of earthquakes recently," I recalled once the tremors had ceased. "It must be common in these parts."</p><p>"Probably," Kakashi agreed as he removed a fallen wall scroll from his lap. "These mountains are on a natural fault line."</p><p>We got up and spent a few moments replacing the various decorations in the proper places on the wall. Then we sat and Kakashi spoke again.</p><p>"In any case, it's likely that this Kazuma was surveying the area in preparation for the next theft," he said. "We should begin monitoring the mine tomorrow night after the workers leave."</p><p>"So we are opting for a direct confrontation after all?" I questioned quietly.</p><p>"I don't know if we have any other choice. The local authority is only a militia, after all. They don't have the capability to trap and contain shinobi, so even if we tried to hide behind Kubo and the villagers, anyone with half a brain could figure out that we're the ones responsible."</p><p>True enough. When he put it like that, there was no point doing otherwise.</p><p>"With that said, though, we can still conceal the fact that we're Konoha-nin," he added. "We'll hide our faces and wear unmarked clothing. If we're lucky they'll assume we're from another village, or that we're unaffiliated shinobi."</p><p>If only we should be so lucky. Kakashi and I both exchanged glances that made it clear we didn't believe it for a second, but still, it wasn't like the alternative—blazing in with our uniforms and ranks on full display—would help us any, either.</p><p>It was late enough then for us to stop for the evening, so we shut the veranda doors against the chilled air, faced in opposite directions while we changed our clothes, and then got ready for bed. Kakashi began tidying up his books and putting them aside, and I spread out my futon beside the warm coals of the brazier.</p><p>The next morning Kakashi obtained a copy of the mines' layout from Kubo and began mapping out the most efficient way to rig the area in our favor. While he was doing so, I heard bits of a noisy discussion outside, so I got dressed and went to investigate.</p><p>"Say, Suzuka-chan," one of the grannies I had spoken to yesterday called when she saw me emerge from Kubo's yard. "Did you pass by the cliffs to the south when you were coming to the village?"</p><p>"Hm? No, we came in directly from the east, by the way of the Yurisou Ravine," I replied. "Why?"</p><p>"News this morning came in with a passing peddler," the woman sitting on the porch behind the granny informed. "There was another landslide after the quake last night. With that the entire passage has collapsed. No one can come through that way anymore."</p><p>"No one was coming by that way to begin with," grumbled another. "Not since that big shinobi battle took place there, anyway. It's bad luck, I tell you. There are vengeful spirits out there."</p><p>"Vengeful spirits! Yeah, right," scoffed the woman.</p><p>"I'm serious! It's dangerous over there."</p><p>"Dangerous? Sure, but not because of ghosts. People are just avoiding it because they don't want to set off any leftover traps or ninja magic…"</p><p>I stayed in with this conversation, curious, until I learned that in the months before the war ended the nearby cliffs had been the site of an extremely large-scale battle between Iwa and the Sannin-led Leaf forces. Apparently the cliffs had been in a perpetual state of collapse ever since, and were disintegrating more and more with each passing earthquake. Most of the villagers were of the opinion that it was merely a coincidence that this string of earthquakes was happening just after the battle, but the little granny's husband was convinced that it was the work vengeful spirits who were unable to pass on because of their violent deaths.</p><p>Kakashi seemed uninterested when I shared the story with him that evening. Having buried a variety of seals and wire traps in the ground before smoothing everything over with doton techniques, we had retreated to a ledge high up in the cavern and were now lying in wait for the appearance of our thieves.</p><p>"I wonder if it was Orochimaru-sama or Jiraiya-sama who led them," was all he said in reply. His unruly, eye-catching hair had been stuffed into a bandana, and he was dressed head to toe in plain black. I had a hood and a cloth mask as well, and for androgyny's sake, he had lent me some of his clothes so I could hide my figure in the baggy fabric. Not that I had much of a figure to hide; I was only twelve and as flat-chested as ever.</p><p>We passed that night without any results, and just before daybreak Kakashi shook his head, so we handed the watch off to Pakkun and the other dogs. The next night was much the same—as was the next. But the fourth evening brought us what we were waiting for.</p><p>I quickly tapped Kakashi's shoulder and began signing at him. His gaze sharpened as I fingerspelled Kazuma's name, and he pulled his mask down just far enough so he could sniff the air.</p><p><em>Two,</em> Kakashi signed back at me.</p><p><em>Probability brother?</em> I asked back.</p><p><em>Likely</em>.</p><p>
  <em>Action?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wait for enemy move. Engage on my signal.</em>
</p><p>I threw on my I&amp;E stealth jutsu while Kakashi employed his own presence-concealing techniques. Then we laid flat on our stomachs and peered over the edge to watch. Two figures silently entered the mine.</p><p>"Oniisama, wait," a boyish voice floated up towards us. "I still don't think this is a good idea."</p><p>"Good thing you're not in charge, then," was the terse reply. "Be quiet, Kazuto. We can't afford to wait any longer."</p><p>Kazuma—Kazuto—grabbed his brother's arm and said, "Oniisama, wait. We can just find a new source. We knew we would have to abandon this site eventually. I told you what I saw—we shouldn't risk it."</p><p>"And I'm telling you we have to," Kazuto's brother snapped back. "We don't have time. Sakuya's already awake enough to be moving around—we need to get the ore now."</p><p>"Oniisama—"</p><p>"Kazuto, would you just shut up for a second and help me?"</p><p>Kazuto pursed his lips, but he complied, and he and his brother began making hand seals in unison. The moment they slammed their hands onto the ground, the seals planted beneath the surface exploded in a storm of wire, wrapping them head to toe in steel thread. Kakashi jerked a hand forward before jumping. I leapt off after him.</p><p>"Shit," muttered the older brother as we landed in front of him. Kazuto just put his forehead on the ground and let out a sigh.</p><p>"Question them here, or take them back to the village?" Kakashi wondered. He moved to drag the two towards the wall.</p><p>"I think—" I began. Then I stopped, feeling a sense of grave foreboding, and seized his wrist. "Wait!"</p><p>The two wire-bound figures' faces suddenly seemed to melt. Then we were standing in front of two piles of formless mud.</p><p>"Bunshin," Kakashi cursed under his breath. Before I could blink there was a hail of kunai, a rapid string of kawarimi, and then the telltale clashing of steel. I bit my lip and found myself being drawn into a furious hand-to-hand spar. Ducking under swings and aiming wild kicks at one another, we traded blows for a solid minute, throwing punches and deflecting strikes in rapid succession. Only after I had landed a solid heel in my opponent's side did I have a chance to break away and see who I was facing.</p><p>Where his brother had had warm and pleasant brown eyes, this man's irises were a stormy gray, dark with determination and cunning. He was wearing a blank hitai-ate, but he was tellingly dressed in browns and reds. I noticed with concern that he only had one sleeve—an iconic mark of an Iwa jounin.</p><p>Worried, I fell back until I found Kakashi's side. He immediately slid into place on my six, and for several minutes we fought with Kazuto and his brother from that position, carefully guarding one another's backs.</p><p>We appeared quite well-matched with our opponents, and we quickly found ourselves deadlocked in a cycle of endless blocks and deflections. Ordinarily that would have worried me; as skilled as Kakashi was, we were both physically adolescents, and the team with the taller man would win in a battle of attrition simply by the fact of his size. But there was a certain underlying panic in the Iwa brothers' movements. They were rushing, and badly. The leapt at openings they didn't have and were recklessly aggressive. Even I could see that.</p><p>Kakashi was a wolf for weakness. Seeing our adversaries' desperation to force the fight to a close, he feinted right, swung left, and then faked the beginning of a backstep sequence when his strike was blocked, baiting the older brother forward. As he did so, he twisted his torso and slapped an open palm against my free hand.</p><p>I understood in an instant what he wanted. With a twist of chakra I placed a Strings of Fate seal on his hand, and he quickly swung back around. I dove forward in tandem, and in a moment Kakashi and I had clotheslined our opponent to the ground. Kakashi dove on top of him, smashed his knee into his opponent's stomach to wind him, and pressed the edge of the kunai against his neck.</p><p>"Don't move!" Kakashi barked at Kazuto, who immediately threw his hands up when he saw his brother at Kakashi's mercy. "Throw down your weapon!"</p><p>Kazuto obliged, flinging his tantou out of his hands. I quickly darted forward to collect it and bind his hands. Ones I had his arms behind his back, I forced him down onto his knees and held him there.</p><p>Kakashi and I exchanged glances, panting breathlessly. That had not gone according to plan… but it could have been much worse. Cautiously, we both got up and brought our respective prisoners to the cavern wall. Kazuto complied without resistance.</p><p>And then, head lolling and lip split, Kazuto's brother wheezed out, "I know you."</p><p>Kakashi and I paused. We looked at him. Then, slowly, we looked at one another. A bluff?</p><p>"I know you both," he said. "Kakashi… of the Sharingan. Konoha's Bloody Threads."</p><p>Oh. Oh, no, not a bluff. Wide-eyed, Kakashi and I regarded one another again. What had given it away?</p><p>Slowly, a smirk emerged on the older brother's face. He lifted his bound hands and pointed at me. I immediately looked down. My ponytail had come out of my hood… and my wires were still hanging from my fingers.</p><p>"A one-eyed teenager and a girl with wires," the older brother chuckled, finding his voice. "Who else could you be? Our commanders warned us all about you and your teacher. The Yondaime Hokage and his students."</p><p>Well, then the jig was up. Appalled, I threw back my hood and pulled the stifling cloth from my face. We had figured we wouldn't be able to hide our village affiliation, but to be personally named just like that... if just holding a handful of wires was enough to identify me, I would have to figure out countermeasures when I made it back home.</p><p>"What, got something to hide, little boy?" Kazuto's brother taunted when Kakashi left his own mask in place. "Too scared of Iwa to show your face?"</p><p>Kakashi just stared down at him coldly. I felt a sudden surge of deja vu. Kakashi's frigid glare… before our reconciliation, I had been on the receiving end of that look too many times to count. He clearly bore no love for Iwa-nin.</p><p>"Scary," commented Kazuto's brother, at which point it became apparent that he was purposely trying pick a fight. Well, I thought as I looked at him tied up on the ground there, at this point he didn't have any other option but to try talking his way out. Tilting your captors and making them lose composure... I supposed it was admirable of him to try.</p><p>"Interesting thing about you, Copy Ninja," Kazuto's brother began with irksomely slimy casualness. "There's a story going around about your Uchiha eye."</p><p>Kakashi only snorted, incensed. A bad premonition fluttered in my gut.</p><p>"People call you Leaf-nin tree huggers. They say you're all about feelings and teamwork, but we know it's not true," Kazuto's brother said slyly, as if confiding a secret. "We know the truth about your village. Swimming with kekkei genkai… well, it's no wonder people without blood limits get jealous."</p><p>My eyebrows flew up as Kakashi's drew together. This man was an outsider with absolutely no means to comment on Konoha's blood limit politics. He was so out of his depth that anything he said would be impossible to take seriously. Surely he didn't think he was in any position to imply—</p><p>"Still, cannibalizing your teammates for body parts. Well, anyone could understand the sentiment, but it takes skill to throw a friend on the chopping block without overplaying your hand. I'm impressed with you," he praised. "I wonder what sort of sob story you had to spin to convince the Uchiha to let you keep the eye you stole."</p><p>In an instant the mine was filled with the screaming sound of Chidori. I was stunned. Not only had this man taken just the blindest, wildest shot, it had connected—Kakashi had bought it. His Sharingan was already out. My teammate lifted his arm, murder in his eye.</p><p>"Oniisama!" Kazuto screamed, horrified, as Kakashi's figure blurred. Kazuto's brother's eyes went wide with shock; whatever effect he had expected his goading to have, this evidently was not it.</p><p>I reacted without thinking. Launching myself into a blind shunshin, I angled myself between my teammate and my enemy. My vision immediately filled with the angry spark of lightning; my brain, behind a second in time, caught up with my body, and I instantly felt my stomach drop in horror as I realized what I had just done.</p><p>I had just jumped in front of a Chidori.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Sakuya (3)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Previously: Their mission at the mine leads Kakashi and Suzu to fight with two Iwa ninja; Kakashi is provoked with a comment about Obito's eye; Suzu jumps in front of a Chidori.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kakashi's hand, coated in squealing lightning, stopped inches away from my chest.</p><p>"Are you crazy?" I breathed, heart pounding, as electricity danced across my skin. "Kakashi, what the hell are you doing?"</p><p>Kakashi was frozen in place as he stared up at me. My outstretched arms began to quiver.</p><p>"Kakashi!"</p><p>He jerked back with wide eyes, and the electricity in his hand extinguished. Petrified was the only word to describe him. His face was a snapshot of pure, unadulterated terror.</p><p>"Are you crazy?" I repeated, shaking as I slowly lowered my arms. "You can't just break out your signature technique and… and kill an Iwa ninja! Everyone would know. There would be no way to hide it! This is the exact international incident we said we had to avoid!"</p><p>"I…" Kakashi stuttered and clutched his wrist. "I…"</p><p>A moment of terrible silence passed. Kakashi's shoulders began to tremble, and I realized that he was having a flashback, just like I had when I'd met the Iwa company on our sabotage mission. He was remembering something bad. He was—he was remembering Rin, wasn't he? It occurred to me with belated horror that I had, for all intents and purposes, just re-enacted Rin's suicide attempt.</p><p>"I'm sorry, Kakashi," I said weakly. "You should… let me handle this. You should go outside. I'll take care of it."</p><p>He stared at me mutely.</p><p>"Go on," I repeated. "I'll take care of it."</p><p>There was another long pause. Then Kakashi hid his face, turned away, and sprinted for the mine's entrance.</p><p>"That was not my intention," Kazuto's brother said when I turned to stare down at him.</p><p>"Do you have a death wish?" I asked in reply. Taunting enemies was one thing, but Obito's eye was no mere taunt.</p><p>The Iwa jounin had no response for that. He pursed his lips and looked away.</p><p>"Get up," I said flatly. "We're going back to the village. If you're still stupid enough to try something after this, I'll cut your legs off."</p><p>Kazuto and his brother climbed to their feet. I stepped forward and put my palms on their throats, leaving seals stretched out across their necks.</p><p>"Walk," I said.</p><p>"Weren't you going to cut our legs off?" Kazuto's brother muttered as he began striding towards the mine's entrance.</p><p>"Oniisama, please," Kazuto groaned. He might have put his head in his hands if he had been able.</p><p>"If you want, we can have it both ways," I offered coldly. "Shall I take your head before or after the dismemberment?"</p><p>"Geez, I got it," Kazuto's brother grumbled. "Sorry."</p><p>Kakashi was nowhere to be seen, but Pakkun and Bull were waiting for me outside, which made something in my chest feel tight and remorseful. I went over to them and crouched.</p><p>"He went ahead," Pakkun replied to my silent question. "He asked us to walk you back."</p><p>"Thanks, Pakkun," I sighed.</p><p>It was well into the night now, but the moon was full and the path to the village was well-lit by its light. We made our way up in silence. Eventually we found our way into Kubo's yard, where I made Kazuto and his brother sit on the ground with the dogs as their guards.</p><p>The engawa door quietly slid open behind me. Kakashi emerged looking as though nothing had gone wrong; he was now clothed in his usual gear, tilted Leaf hitai-ate and all. His gaze was iron-clad in indifference.</p><p>Cleanly avoiding my gaze, he stepped out onto the engawa and regarded the two brothers noiselessly. Pursing my lips, I removed my shoes and climbed up to stand beside him.</p><p>"Well," Kazuto's brother said as the staring contest went on and the silence began to stretch. "Is this the part where the tree-huggers interrogate us?"</p><p>Tree-huggers… he had called us that earlier as well. Was that really a foreign nickname for Konoha-nin? What would that make an Iwa-nin? A rockhead? Kazuto caught sight of my dubious stare and sighed.</p><p>"I'm sorry," he apologized, bowing as deeply as he was able from the ground. "He's not usually this rude, but sometimes he can't help but pick a fight even though he knows it's a bad idea."</p><p>The older of the two Iwa siblings aimed a scowl at his brother. Kakashi went on impersonating his namesake and continued to stare at them, unmoving as a scarecrow.</p><p>"What are your names?" I asked, inferring that he meant for me to do the questioning, and held up a hand when Kazuto's brother opened his mouth. "I want Kazuto to talk."</p><p>"My name is Kazuto Akiyama," Kazuto obliged before his brother could make any smart remarks. "My brother is Junichi Akiyama."</p><p>"You are Iwagakure ninja?" I asked for confirmation's sake.</p><p>"Yes. But we're not here on orders from our village," Kazuto quickly informed. "The village has nothing to do with our activities here. We're acting independently."</p><p>That was an interesting tidbit of information, although not necessarily a surprising one. As I had already observed, Kubo's mine was far too small to be of any substantial use to Iwa.</p><p>"And what is the reason for these independent actions?"</p><p>"That is..." Kazuto hesitated. Kakashi and I raised eyebrows in synchronization, and Kazuto flinched. "...It's because—"</p><p>"Bite your tongue, Kazuto," Junichi cut in. Kazuto gave him a chagrined look.</p><p>"Bite yours," I cut back, irked now. "If you think our desire to avoid an international incident gives you free reign to provoke us, think again. Just because we cannot kill you with Chidori does not mean we cannot kill you at all."</p><p>Was that big talk? Perhaps it was. In truth I didn't want to kill him. After the slaughter of the Iwa company I didn't want to kill anyone. But "not wanting" and "unable" were two very different beasts indeed.</p><p>Perhaps that thought crystallized into a sliver of killing intent; Junichi seemed to fight back a sudden shudder. That more than anything appeared to put him on good behavior, and Kazuto was free to speak again.</p><p>"The reason why we have been stealing from these mines…" he began haltingly. "It's because—well, it's because of Sakuya."</p><p>Sakuya, I noted to myself, was the name they had spoken during their mud clone diversion.</p><p>"Who is Sakuya?"</p><p>Kazuto let out a weary sigh. Then, ignoring a burning look from his brother, he said, "It's complicated, but I'll tell you. Maybe you could even help us."</p><p>"Kazuto!" Junichi hissed despite himself.</p><p>"It's not like we have a choice either way, oniisama," was Kazuto's resigned reply. He returned his gaze to us. "We don't have a quarrel with you or anyone in the village. We are doing this because one year ago our family friend, Miyu-san, died. Responsibility for Sakuya fell upon us because she had no relatives."</p><p>"And Sakuya is…?"</p><p>Kazuto closed his eyes. Then he said, "Sakuya… is a first generation summon animal. A giant mole."</p><p>There was a long beat. Kakashi and I looked at one another. Then we looked back at Kazuto.</p><p>"A giant mole," I repeated.</p><p>"Yes. She's approximately the size of two houses… perhaps twice as big as this building here. Miyu-san met her up north, farther into the mountains."</p><p>I considered it. It… wasn't impossible. Giant animals were not unheard of in this universe; Gamabunta was the size of several houses, as were Katsuyu and Manda.</p><p>"For a while, things went well with them," Kazuto continued when it was clear I was going to keep my silence. "They were terrors on the battlefield. Sakuya would burrow underground and collapse entire cliffs to get rid of enemy platoons. She made rockslides and earthquakes… she was like a force of nature. But one day, well…" he sighed and looked away. "They went to battle. Miyu-san ordered Sakuya to tear up the field. Sakuya went on a rampage and she's been uncontrollable ever since. Miyu-san was killed."</p><p>"A rogue summon?" I murmured. I had heard of such cases before. Without a summoner to give them direction, they usually kept to their last order—to fight—until someone put them down. But as far as I knew such cases only ever occurred with smaller summons, such as ninken, and usually only with those who had not been trained in speech. Owners of contracts with larger summons almost always had successors, but it seemed no such person was in place for Sakuya.</p><p>"It would explain a lot," Kakashi finally spoke. "The large battle on the southern cliffs… the frequent earthquakes…"</p><p>"This Sakuya is the cause?" I looked to Kazuto and Junichi. They nodded.</p><p>"We've been keeping her docile by overfeeding her," Junichi informed after letting out a long sigh of resignation. "But we were late this month and she's been awake for several days now. Thanks to you lot stopping us, she'll be in even more of a rage."</p><p>"Stopping you—" I stared at him. "Do you mean to say that this is why you've been stealing iron?"</p><p>"Iron ore," he corrected tiredly. "Refined iron would make her ill. Though that was what some of our comrades wanted, I wanted to avoid hurting her if I could."</p><p>"Truly?" I was agog. "I thought moles were insectivores."</p><p>"Do you think a giant mole the size of two houses could be satiated by bugs?" Junichi raised an eyebrow. "While she does eat grubs and the like, mineral-rich earth and rocks are a large component of her diet. It's the reason why she can dig through cliffs and solid stone—her claws were made for tearing rock formations apart."</p><p>What a fantastic tale… but not, upon deeper consideration, an implausible one. As Kakashi had already observed, the presence of a large rogue summon capable of creating rockslides and earthquakes would go far in explaining what was otherwise being ascribed to ghosts and vengeful spirits. Furthermore, several uninformed parties had already collaborated the claim that there had been a large battle between ninja nearby… I looked at my teammate.</p><p>"I'll send a shadow clone to confirm it," he decided after a moment. Then he looked at the Akiyama brothers, who were still sitting on the frozen ground. "Pakkun, you and the rest of the pack stand guard. We're going inside."</p><p>That was a rather unilateral decision, but I didn't argue because it was clear he had something to say to me. As well he should, I thought a little wearily. I didn't regret stopping him, but that had been a bad situation.</p><p>Kakashi slid the door shut as I seated myself on the tatami. Then he sat down across from me.</p><p>"Don't tell Sensei," he said.</p><p>"I… pardon?" I blinked, flummoxed. I had been expecting something else just now—anger, or an accusation, or...</p><p>"Don't tell Sensei about tonight," Kakashi repeated. "About the Chidori thing. Don't tell him I froze up like that."</p><p>Alarm bells began blaring in my mind. I regarded him cautiously.</p><p>"Are you suggesting I omit something in my post-action report?"</p><p>"He doesn't need to know," he replied resolutely.</p><p>I found myself in an uneasy silence. As expected, that was not something I could let fly. As a recent release from the western ward, there was absolutely no way I could let that fly.</p><p>"You should reconsider," I said softly, wondering what approach would be best to take in this situation. In the Earth girl's memories, Kakashi Hatake had lived a life burdened with great unhealed wounds. If I did as he asked and looked the other way, he was sure to just bury this whole entire incident and run onward without facing it. And where would that end?</p><p>A red haze began to rise from the floor. I looked down, away from reality, and considered the sea of corpses that had come to make their home all around me. They were shredded into bits every one of them, missing arms and legs and heads. And of course they were, because I had made them that way. They were going to stay that way forever, here in this bloody ocean.</p><p>"He doesn't need to know," Kakashi repeated.</p><p>I looked up at him. Then I flattened my hand in one of those gory puddles, pulled my threads from it, and drew them across my throat. Kakashi stared as the chakra-infused wires began to bead up with blood.</p><p>"You can't have forgotten," I said as I dragged my palm across my throat and then held my dirtied hand, stained wires and all, out to him. "You can't have forgotten it already."</p><p>He had seen the carnage that was still with me now. When I had looked away from my own troubles, he had been there to see the result.</p><p>"I…" For the second time that night Kakashi was robbed of speech. He looked at me and then down at my red-smeared hand.</p><p>"I'm sorry I made you experience that," I apologized as I drew it back to my lap. "I didn't consider what jumping in front of you like that would make you remember. But if you froze and you're worried about what Minato-nii will tell you to do if he finds out about it, you know we can't omit it."</p><p>"But…" Kakashi's fingers wrapped around his wrist again. The great fear returned to him, dark and vast and terrible. "But I…"</p><p>"If I had been in my right mind, I don't know if I would have killed those ninja," I began reflectively. "Maybe it doesn't matter because I would have chosen to kill them anyway. But I don't think I would have suffered like that if I had done things a different way. I guess it probably would have been painful in a different way… but it wouldn't have been like that."</p><p>I had regrets now that I would shoulder for the rest of my life. Regret—that was the wages of running away. I hated the deal I had made. I thought of Kakashi Hatake in another world, standing in the rain and regretting his whole life, and wondered if he would say the same.</p><p>We descended into silence. We sat in seiza across from each other in the darkness of the room, one thin beam of moonlight between us. Kakashi's fingers, white around his sleeve, slowly loosened, and an indeterminate amount of time passed before we rose and headed to bed.</p>
<hr/><p>The next morning I woke when it was still dark. I stared for a few minutes at the ceiling in confused silence before I rolled over and looked for Kakashi. He was dead asleep on the other side of the brazier, covered face still and bathed in a dim orange glow.</p><p>I sat up and wondered what had woken me before I caught sight of a shadow moving across the rice paper of the veranda door. Curious, I rose from the covers, picked up a shawl, and silently slid it open.</p><p>Junichi was asleep on the grass between Urushi and Guruko, head just barely visible from underneath the blanket we had dropped on him, but Kazuto was on the engawa, awake and leaning on the storm shutters with hands still bound behind his back. He was staring out into the veil of night in watchful silence, expectant and waiting.</p><p>"What are you doing?" I asked softly. I wondered if I ought to be concerned. What could he be waiting for? Had there been more collaborators? Did he have backup?</p><p>Kazuto straightened. Then he looked at me from over his shoulder with dark eyes and a face cast in shadow.</p><p>"Sometimes at night I wait up for her," he told me. "Without even meaning to. I just stand up and wait for her."</p><p>"For Miyu-san?"</p><p>He nodded. I wrapped my shawl over my shoulders and went to stand beside him, remembering the days when Akihiko and I would look up on the training fields and wonder when Yoshiya would arrive. But he never did, and we had always been left waiting.</p><p>"How did she die?" I asked.</p><p>"From behind. Someone nailed her in the head with a fuma shuriken."</p><p>Gruesome. If it hadn't beheaded her that meant it had split her skull. I wondered if he had seen the body.</p><p>"It must be the same the world around," I commented, thinking of how Auntie would sometimes go silent and stare out the window late after dinner. Years had passed and she still did it. "There are folk like that in Konoha, too."</p><p>Kazuto looked at me sidelong. Then he let out a sigh, and condensation curled out from his lips in wisps.</p><p>"Oniisama says there's nothing to do but move on," he told me distantly. "I guess he must be used to it since so many of the jounin have already died. But Miyu-san was the first partner I ever had."</p><p>I looked at him.</p><p>"Around him I act like nothing's changed. I keep busy and take missions like I never stopped, but it's all a lie," Kazuto said bitterly. "In my heart I stand still. I'll watch forever… night will never end and I will never stop waiting."</p><p>He was a different person from before. That Kazuto had seemed bright, naive, and polite. This boy was tired, resentful, and defeated. He stared out over the lawn with dull eyes, and his gaze lingered with vague unhappiness on the form of his brother.</p><p>"I'd like to be alone for a while longer," he said a few moments later.</p><p>"All right," I acquiesced. I searched briefly for the rest of Kakashi's ninken, who were spread about Kubo's yard in various poses of leisure. But their lazy gazes were all trained on the Akiyama brothers, so I returned to the room and laid down again, leaving Kazuto to his thoughts.</p>
<hr/><p>"Suzu."</p><p>I blinked into immediate wakefulness. This time it was light and Kakashi was kneeling beside my futon, already dressed and looking fresh for a new day.</p><p>"What's wrong?" I mumbled as I simultaneously pushed my hair out of my face and pulled my blanket over my chest.</p><p>"My shadow clone dispelled," he replied. "They're telling the truth. It's a giant mole. I went ahead and told Kubo about it."</p><p>"What did he say?"</p><p>"Only that he wants no part of any ninja grudges," Kakashi replied with a faint shrug. "The villagers were not pleased to learn he has been harboring shinobi in his house. They didn't appreciate being deceived by us, either. Kubo has requested we finish our business promptly so he may pay us and send us on our way."</p><p>That was a rough break. Though he was essentially telling us to hurry up and get out, I was unable to resent him for it. Dealing first with financial pressure when the thefts had started, then with the stress of concealing us from the village as a whole, and now the fallout of that deception… our presence here would only continue to complicate things for him. The poor man had only wanted someone to get the thieves out of his village's livelihood, but he got a metaphorical pipe bomb instead. It was no exaggeration to say that this entire situation was a hair's breadth from explosion.</p><p>"Did he say anything about the Akiyama brothers?" I questioned as I glanced toward the engawa. Kazuto's silhouette had vanished from the door. "Is he going to press charges against Iwa?"</p><p>Even though the brothers had claimed they were acting independently, I didn't doubt someone would be willing to make the other case. Now that the armistice was in place and open combat was forbidden, people were already fighting across the continent via trade guilds and international legal disputes. It was a given someone would be willing to try their hand at concocting a slander campaign against Iwa for stealing from innocent civilians in the border countries.</p><p>"He'd like to wash his hands of any involvement with them," Kakashi shrugged again.</p><p>Well, that was probably the more prudent move. Ninja politics were so cutthroat. Kubo would only suffer more if he tried to get involved.</p><p>"We're free to do with them as we see fit, then?" I sat up and bit my lip. Taking an Iwa-nin as a prisoner would be just as bad as killing one with a Chidori would have been, if not worse. If we had ended up killing Junichi, in the worst case Konoha could have claimed we acted without authority and shunted the blame to us. But if we brought Rock shinobi to the village and used Leaf facilities to contain them the whole village administration would be implicated.</p><p>Kakashi seemed to follow my thoughts and concluded, "We have to find a way to solve this amicably. The only way to fulfill our mission objective is to send them out and make sure that they don't return."</p><p>"Meaning we have to solve the root problem," I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. "We need to figure out this rogue summon situation."</p><p>As if to prove the point the room suddenly lurched violently. This time the earthquake lasted for almost a minute, and by the end several fixtures of the room had come loose and fallen over. Weary and not at all well-rested, I pulled my legs up and put my forehead on my knees.</p><p>"Were we given discretionary funds for this mission?" I asked plaintively.</p><p>"A modest amount," replied my teammate. "Why?"</p><p>"Let's buy the ore the Akiyama brothers intended to steal from the villagers. We shouldn't let her go berserk like that if we can help it."</p><p>Half an hour later we had three storage scrolls full of ore, a back full of glares from the villagers, and two hostage Iwa ninja trying to explain the location of their rampaging mole to us. Eventually we just decided to have them lead us to her themselves and set off in the direction of the cliffs. Kakashi cut their bonds so they could run properly, but while he did so I put my index fingers on their windpipes to remind them of their leashes.</p><p>"For such a tiny kid, you've got an iron fist," Junichi commented, features twisting downward as he prodded at the seal on his skin. "Ruthlessness must run in your family. Touch-application seals… none of our fuuinjutsu masters can replicate it."</p><p>That was no small wonder. From what I had gathered Minato only knew how because Kushina's mother had taught him. It was an Uzumaki secret and I was very blessed he and Kushina had deigned to share the knowledge with me. I wasn't sure if they'd even told Jiraiya how.</p><p>I didn't deign to reply to him, so Junichi tsked and the run went on in silence. At one point he turned and began speaking to Kazuto, but Kazuto seemed quiet and lost in thought. I wondered if he was feeling sleep-deprived, too.</p><p>But thoughts about sleep deprivation quickly flew from mind. Sakuya was a frightful being. Junichi sent the ore down with a mud clone and ten minutes of pure terror followed; the ground erupted in an explosion of rocks and dirt and dust, and even at a great distance the shaking was so violent that all four of us fell over. Farther down the ravine another section of the cliffs collapsed completely, demolishing the landscape even further. Kakashi and I latched onto a nearby boulder and clung to it like our lives depended on it.</p><p>"I don't know of any way to resolve this," I said into my hands as the Akiyama brothers led us down into the debris so we could take a look at Sakuya up close. "Physically restraining that much raw power is out of the question. Any sort Earth Release prison will be absolutely useless. Genjutsu might work, but I don't think either of us have the skillset needed to employ techniques on a summon animal's chakra system… do we?"</p><p>"I have no relevant experience," Kakashi admitted. "Fuuinjutsu?"</p><p>"The biggest barrier I've ever made is only about ten square meters," I shook my head. "We'd need Jiraiya-sama, probably… or Kushina-nee or Minato-nii." Outside of those three and some select persons in the Special Forces, there were very few people with any sort of sealing expertise beyond the basics.</p><p>Junichi looked over his shoulder in horror. Well, to a foreigner who knew them only through their kills and not by their other talents, that certainly would sound like a lethal lineup. If any of the three of them were to appear, containing Sakuya would probably become the least of his worries.</p><p>"Inuzuka tamers, maybe?" I suggested doubtfully. Sometimes they were called in to deal with unruly summons. "We could try asking for their help."</p><p>"For a giant mole from Iwa?" Kakashi looked at me doubtfully. "What help would they be? Sakuya's not a canine."</p><p>We soon descended into a crumbling tunnel. Then we found Sakuya wedged between two boulders, curled up on her side. Staring up at the size of her and watching her sluggishly shift her massive claws about made me wonder how a person could ever die with such a creature at her side.</p><p>"Miyu thought that way too," Junichi commented. "And she paid the price for it. She was a fool."</p><p>Despite the harshness of his words his voice held a tone of vague regret. I got the sense then that Junichi was the type of man who had trouble expressing himself. He was abrasive and gruff, but the fact that he was here taking care of a deceased fool's summon animal, stealing from border villages and fighting so desperately with us to keep his operation going…</p><p>A chunk of the roof came loose and crashed into the ground behind us. Junichi and Kakashi simultaneously decided reinforce the ceiling of the cavern, stepped forward, and began making doton hand seals. Kazuto and I watched them for a moment in silence. Then the younger Akiyama brother went to Sakuya's side and buried his hands and face in her fur. He stayed like that for a long moment, clinging to her side in silence.</p><p>"Suzuka-san, do you think it's hopeless?" he eventually asked. "Do you think finding a way to save her is impossible?"</p><p>"No, of course not," I quickly reassured, sensing despair lurking in those words. Kazuto let out a knowing laugh and regarded me with sidelong glance.</p><p>"Kind of you to say," he said. "But I think you see it too. Everything you thought of, we tried too… Earth release barriers, genjutsu traps, seals, summon trainers, everything."</p><p>"We still have more options to discuss," I pointed out reasonably. "That was hardly an exhaustive list."</p><p>He looked at me again before turning his face away.</p><p>"It was stupid of me to think an outsider could help," he said, clutching Sakuya's fur once more.</p><p>"That's what you get for trusting your enemies," Junichi said. He had finished his Earth Wall reinforcements and now slapped his brother on the back. "Tree-huggers besides. Come on, let's go."</p><p>Kakashi and I moved toward the tunnel entrance. I could tell by the look in my teammate's eye that he was already deep in thought.</p><p>"You really never know when to shut up, oniisama," Kazuto muttered.</p><p>"Oh, are you angry?" Junichi smiled a little, looking pleased that his brother, who had been unusually quiet the whole morning, was talking now. "My bad. Come on, hurry up. Let's go back to the village talk things over with these brats."</p><p>"Hey now…" I gave him a piqued look. Junichi shrugged at me as he passed. Then he glanced back when he saw his brother wasn't following.</p><p>"Kazuto?"</p><p>Kazuto looked at us over his shoulder. In the same moment I heard a sudden onset of chakra sound, and Kakashi and I jerked around in unison as we sensed the activation of a jutsu.</p><p>"I think it's time to put an end to all of this, oniisama," Kazuto murmured, finally drawing away from Sakuya's side. Once he pulled his hands back we could see clearly that they were folded into a seal. "You should know by now too that we can't go on like this."</p><p>"What?" Junichi spun in place as the ceiling began to tremble again. "Kazuto! What are you doing? We just reinforced this place! Are you trying to kill us?"</p><p>"Leave, then, oniisama," Kazuto replied. His eyes had dimmed into that same dull darkness from this morning. "I'll take care of her myself. You moved on from Miyu-san. Move on from here, too."</p><p>"Are you insane? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you trying to undo everything we've worked for in this past year?" Junichi shot off a barrage of questions in rapid fire, looking with panic between his brother and Sakuya.</p><p>"Kakashi," I hissed and tugged on my teammate's sleeve. Tiny streams of dirt began to pour in from the cracks in the ceiling. "We'll be crushed to death if we're in this tunnel when it collapses."</p><p>"We need to go," Kakashi shouted as the rumbling above us grew louder. He grabbed Junichi's arm, but the Iwa jounin immediately jerked away.</p><p>"Kazuto!" he yelled to his brother as he strained against my teammate's grip. Kazuto just sank to the ground and leaned into Sakuya's side, silent. "Let's go! Kazuto!"</p><p>The world began to crumble. Kakashi and I exchanged glances. Then I seized Junichi by the other arm, and we turned and sprinted up to the surface as quickly as we were able. We didn't stop until we were up on the cliffs overlooking the ravine, far from Sakuya's tunnel. Only then did we turn to stare as the ground below us buckled and folded in upon itself. A sound like thunder clamored in our ears as it disintegrated; a minute later there was nothing left but a sunken crater full of rocks.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. A Single Chance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Previously: Kakashi and Suzu discover a rogue summon is responsible for their troubles; Suzu spies unresolved tension between the Akiyama brothers; Kazuto puts an end to the problem of Sakuya.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Junichi would not allow us to help him search for the body. Almost as soon as the dust had settled he was leaping back into the rubble. Kakashi followed to help with his own Earth Release techniques, but Junichi hurled a knife at him. When I quietly offered to use my seal to give him a line down to Kazuto's remains, he seized me by the collar and spat, "Fuck off."</p><p>So we fell back and watched from a distance. He upturned the earth with doton, dug with kunai, upturned the earth, and dug again. Several hours passed, and we looked on with concern as Junichi bit down on a second and then a third soldier pill. But eventually he went deep enough to uncover the awful mangled bodies of Sakuya and Kazuto both.</p><p>Even from far off the sight of it made me ill. Kakashi half-lifted a hand as if he wanted to cover his eye, but nevertheless stood beside me in witness as Junichi knelt before the disaster i wn silence. The sun was setting then, and several long minutes passed before he moved. When he did he pulled two black scrolls from his belt pouch and sealed both Kazuto and Sakuya away. I took a faltering step forward, not sure if should invite him back to the village—something about traveling on the fumes of a third soldier pill seemed risky and unwise—but Junichi vanished without looking back at us before I had the chance.</p><p>Despite the fact that we would lose the light before even reaching Fire Country, Kakashi and I both agreed to collect our things and leave as soon as we had reported to Kubo. We travelled a little while in darkness before eventually striking camp beneath a large camphor tree. We kept that tone for the entirety of the return trip; we spoke mostly only to check on one another or confirm our direction of travel. It felt like having a brick thrown in our faces when we arrived at Konoha's main gate and were greeted with a boisterous "Welcome home!" by a sprightly-looking genin and her teammates.</p><p>"I'll meet you at the Missions Office tomorrow for the debriefing," Kakashi quietly said in farewell.</p><p>"Okay," I replied. He turned and vanished over the rooftops, and I was left standing alone on the dusky main street at the entrance of the village.</p><p>The thought of returning to House seemed suddenly unbearable, so I turned away from the road to the Namikaze compound and made for the market district instead. Itsuki-sensei was shuttering the storefront when I arrived.</p><p>"Suzu-chan? You're back," he said in surprise when I appeared at his elbow. Then he took a long look at my face and put an arm over my shoulders.</p><p>"I don't know if I can keep doing this job," I told him as we went around back and climbed the stairs to his residence above the shop. "It's like it never ends."</p><p>"What happened?" asked Itsuki-sensei. I told him everything, from the stress of first receiving the mission to Kakashi's episode in the mine to Junichi digging up his brother's broken body.</p><p>"I thought when the war ended things wouldn't be like this anymore," I said as I accepted an oversized t-shirt and a pair of slippers from my teacher.</p><p>"It's something else," Itsuki-sensei agreed quietly as he put a kettle on the stove. I went to the other room to change. Then I returned to the kitchen, sat down at the table, and put my head down on my arms. A few minutes later Itsuki-sensei seated himself across from me with two cups of tea, one of which he placed one beside my head. I turned to look at it. Then I pressed my nose against the table and began to cry.</p><p>"Suzu-chan," Itsuki-sensei said, "why don't you retire?"</p><p>The proposition was so bald, so honest, and so close to my heart that it startled me out of my tears. I sat up with a sniffle and looked at him.</p><p>"There's more to life than being a ninja," he told me, unintentionally reminding me of the revelation I had experienced when he'd first told me of his withdrawal from the Forces. "It's okay if you can't go on anymore. The war is over… no one would blame you. You wouldn't be a quitter like I was."</p><p>"But—" I spoke without thinking. "But how can I?"</p><p>"You can. It wouldn't be easy," Sensei allowed, "but you can. There are people who would help you. I'm always in need of a second pair of hands. It wouldn't be any trouble for me to give you a job while you find your feet."</p><p>I stared at him, astonished, as a distant wish suddenly coalesced into a true future. I could see myself in that life. I'd wake up in the morning, help Auntie cook breakfast, and make lunches for my cousins. Then I'd leave with Haruka and Koji and the other little ones, walk them to the Academy, and then come here to help Sensei at the shop. We would stock the shelves together again, sit and peel fruit again, and talk about the weather and our daily lives. The greatest grievance of the day would be getting wet in the rain while taking in the sale banner. I wouldn't even have to leave the village.</p><p>There would be no blood. There would be no politics. It would just be… life.</p><p>"Think about it after you've rested," Itsuki-sensei suggested kindly. He rose and touched my shoulder. "You must be tired. I'll leave the extra futon in the hallway."</p>
<hr/><p>The next morning after I had met with Kakashi at the Missions Office, debriefed, and turned in my report, I returned to Itsuki-sensei's shop to gather my things. Itsuki-sensei saw me off with a bag of mandarins as a souvenir. When I protested the volume of it he waved a hand and told me to share with my family. I returned to the House with my head hanging, feeling bombarded by too much kindness.</p><p>Despite the fact that this mission to Kubo's village had only been the first after a long period of inactivity, pseudo-Team 7 entered another furlough the day after our return. Kakashi was not at a point in which he needed to take his own stay in the western ward, but I suspected that he had been benched for combat missions. Unfortunately, since the only kinds of assignments suitable to a jounin-chuunin pair were most all ones involving fights—be they with bandits or other ninja—it seemed he had no choice but to remain in the village.</p><p>For lack of anything else to do I began running low-level solo chuunin missions. They were quite mundane and consisted mostly of courier work, but it was income. Between these courier missions I began to take days off from training. I kept up with conditioning, but ninjutsu practice began to fall aside, and even though I was due to advance into the sixth tier of Hurricane Gale I let the day of the clan's biannual examinations quietly slip by. Conversely, my time at home and at Itsuki-sensei's shop began to increase dramatically. If my cousins and foster parents noticed the sudden resolution of several unfinished sewing projects, they refrained from commenting.</p><p>But perhaps it was for the better. As Auntie quietly slid open the bathroom door, I put my forehead down on the rim of the toilet seat and sighed, feeling tired right down to my bones.</p><p>"Again?" she murmured quietly, reaching a hand out to pull my hair away from my face. It was kind of her to do it. I hadn't made it in time and it was covered in sick-up, but she didn't even flinch to put her hand in it.</p><p>"I'm seeing Hayato-sensei again on Monday."</p><p>"That's good. He'll have a way to help."</p><p>I turned my head and looked past her shoulder to the hallway, listening to see if I'd woken anyone else in my mad dash to the bathroom. Chiharu and Nodoka's chakra signatures pulsed, and I figured they were using their own listening techniques to see if they could figure out what was wrong. I sighed and dragged a hand across my face.</p><p>"Why am I the only one like this?" I asked my foster mother. "None of the others have all these nightmares and melodrama."</p><p>"It's not melodrama," my aunt contradicted gently as settled down next to me. "As for the others… You children are all so good at keeping quiet. Who taught you all to suffer in so much silence?"</p><p>Her smile then was a little bitter. My mind drifted through memories of both her and my uncle, and of the strange nights when they would sometimes go to the kitchen or the porch and sit like birds above an abyss. I figured then she must have regretted being unable to open up to us. Maybe there was a culture of silence here in the House she didn't like, and she wished she hadn't contributed to it.</p><p>That was so sad. We looked at one another for a long moment. Then I said, "It was life. Life taught us that way."</p><p>Auntie blinked at me in surprise. Then her forehead creased and she gave me a sad smile.</p><p>"It's only ever the same lessons, isn't it?" she said wistfully.</p><p>"It really is," I replied. Auntie let out a small chuckle. Then she stood, went to the tub, and turned the faucet on.</p><p>"Let's clean up," she offered as she held out a hand. I took and let her pull me to her side. I took off my shirt and put my arm over the side of the tub, and she took a small basin of water and poured it over my head.</p><p>"Auntie?" I asked after a long moment.</p><p>"Hm?" she asked back as she began rubbing shampoo into my scalp. Considering the length of my hair, she had to use quite a bit, but she didn't seem bothered by the extra effort.</p><p>"What would you do if I quit and started working for Itsuki-sensei?"</p><p>No one had ever said it in so many words, but everyone knew Reiko Namikaze had been forced into retirement. None of us children knew the exact circumstances of it, but the fact that she'd fought with the clan elders about it was more or less an open secret. It was how she'd gotten her reputation as a firebrand; in the compound she was notorious for her ferocity. For someone like me to quit and throw away a career in the Forces, how would she feel?</p><p>But Auntie only asked, "Would you be happier working for Itsuki-sensei?"</p><p>"Maybe," I muttered, pressing my cheek against the tub. "I don't know. But I'm not happy now."</p><p>Another basin of water was poured over my head to rinse the suds, and then a moment later my aunt dropped a towel over my head. I sat up and began rubbing my hair dry. Auntie dried her own hands; then she knelt in front of me and put them on my knees.</p><p>"Suzu, it sounds to me like you're asking for someone to make a decision about your life for you," she told me quietly. "I can't make decisions for you. If you quit being a ninja you should do it because it's right for you, not because I said you should."</p><p>I opened my mouth, worked my jaw, and then shut it. Then I pursed my lips and looked away, resigned. She sighed and pulled me into a hug.</p><p>"Oh, sweetheart," she murmured. "I wish I could tell you how to win against suffering. But I don't know how. I'm sorry."</p><p>"Auntie, will it be like this forever?"</p><p>"It wasn't for me," she whispered as she tightened the embrace. "It was a long time, but it did get better. It did."</p>
<hr/><p>More time passed. Then March arrived, and the beginnings of spring began to creep out of the ground. I was feeling a little better by then; Kazuto's memory wasn't quite so sharp anymore, and Hayato-sensei and I scaled back to monthly appointments. Jiraiya, who had been out making the new year's rounds with his spy network, returned to the village.</p><p>"No, she isn't here yet. It seems she's running late… it may be evening before she returns. Would you like to leave a message for her?" I heard Auntie's voice say as I slid the front door open.</p><p>"No," came the deep, booming reply. "I want to speak to her directly. I'll wait here for her if you don't mind."</p><p>"Auntie?" I called as I kicked off my shoes and entered the sitting room curiously. "Sorry I'm late, Auntie, Sensei had a mix-up with his neighbor's deliveries and we had to sort it out. What's—" I stopped short when I saw the man sitting across from her at the tea table. "—wrong…?"</p><p>Jiraiya's gaze was so piercing that my breath hitched. For a moment I found myself frozen. But then he let out a big belly laugh and slapped his knee.</p><p>"You've lost your touch, Reiko," he guffawed. "Ten years ago you would've known she was coming a mile out."</p><p>I sent a bewildered look to my aunt, who shook her head and replied with a questioning gaze of her own. My stomach dropped with realization. So much had happened since that trade-off in the mountains, but now he was here to take care of business.</p><p>"Here, Auntie, Sensei said to share," I quickly held out the package of persimmons I was carrying. "Jiraiya-sama, did you need to speak with me?"</p><p>Auntie's lips dropped into a concerned frown, but she seemed to acquiesce to my deflection. She stood and accepted the box. "That was kind of him. I'll make something for you to take back for him tomorrow."</p><p>"You bet I want to talk with you, kid," Jiraiya replied as Auntie excused herself to the kitchen. "Why don't you take a walk with me?"</p><p>Even though his comportment was as jolly as usual there was a certain sharpness in his voice that made a shudder crawl up my spine. I jerked my head in a nervous nod.</p><p>"Auntie, I'll be back in a bit," I called as we went for the door.</p><p>"See you, Reiko," Jiraiya bade.</p><p>We exited the House and went down to the road. A sudden cold front had blown in from the north and a harsh gust of wind cut across the bare skin of my face. Shivering, I pulled my hood up and began rummaging in my pockets for my gloves. The frigid temperature so distracted me that I followed behind Jiraiya without paying half a mind to our surroundings; as a result I was utterly bewildered when I found myself standing beside him at the end of a quiet alleyway between unoccupied houses.</p><p>Jiraiya seized my coat, lifted me off the ground, and shoved me against the wall. My head banged into the wood with a loud crack, and I would have gasped, but he moved so quickly that I was pinned with a knife against my throat before I even registered what had happened. Automatically my arms flailed and my feet scrambled to find purchase against the ground, but it was useless. He had me completely.</p><p>"I don't know who you are or what village you work for," he murmured as he leaned forward, "and I don't know what kind of threat you think you're trying to make. But if you believe I'm weak-willed enough to bend to something like this—" he brandished a familiar scroll between us— "you are sorely mistaken."</p><p>"What?" I breathed out in utter terror. His dark eyes, focused like lasers on my face, narrowed.</p><p>"Don't play dumb," he barked. "Now tell me what you've done to Suzu Namikaze, and tell me who gave you this information."</p><p>I was dumbstruck. Sweat began to gather on my palms.</p><p>"Jiraiya-sama, I—"</p><p>He pulled me away from the wall and then slammed me into it again. My head smashed against the wood a second time, hard enough this time that I bit my tongue.</p><p>"I'm not in the mood to play games," he said coldly. "I'm not buying your act. Now talk."</p><p>Stunned by the ferocity of his violence, I could only look at him in wordless shock. No one from the village had ever manhandled me with such viciousness in my life. Not even Akihiko's enraged, nose-breaking punch compared.</p><p>"W-What?" I stuttered again as my mouth filled with salty, coppery blood. "I don't—I don't understand."</p><p>Jiraiya, who looked thoroughly unconvinced, only scoffed at me.</p><p>"To begin with this story is ridiculous," he said. "Writing out this future where the Hokage dies and the Kyuubi destroys the village—what the hell are you trying to say? That you know who our jinchuuriki is and not even the Yondaime Hokage can stop you? And this whole thing about sealing the Nine-tails into his son—Minato doesn't even have kids. Who could come up with this?"</p><p>Things began to process then. So Jiraiya had read the story of Naruto. But he'd taken my gesture of handing it over in completely the wrong way. The sheer amount of classified information contained in the scroll must have registered not as a report, but as a threat—and of course it did, I thought in dismay. What kind of idiot was I? What else would a master spy in charge of gathering information on Konoha's enemies think when a nobody like Misuzu Namikaze dropped a bomb like this out of nowhere? The only remotely possible explanation was that someone from the outside had infiltrated and was using her identity to try and bring Konoha down from within. The whole thing stank of conspiracy no matter how I tried to slice it.</p><p>"It—" I held back a wince as blood began to dribble over my lip. "It—it is a story. No one told it to me. But it's true, Jiraiya-sama. I don't know if you'll believe me, but it's all true."</p><p>Jiraiya's steely expression did not shift, and I swallowed nervously as I began to realize just what kind of fate might be in store for me if I did not find a way to convince him of my sincerity. That—that would be a problem. In all frankness I had no idea of what I could do. After all, that had been the great problem about this whole issue of foreknowledge: there was no way for me to validate my claims. "I woke up one day and just knew it"... the truth never sounded more like a half-assed lie.</p><p>But then at that moment a familiar song began to ring in my ears. Jiraiya dropped me like a hot potato the second he realized who was approaching, and I wasted no time in diving into the nearby bushes. As I went I wrapped myself in every single concealment jutsu I could bring to bear. Hiding from a shinobi like Minato would take more than just simple chakra cloaking; I flattened myself against the ground and began making hand signs for heat masking, visual camouflage, and sound suppression. Then I held still and tried not to breathe.</p><p>Jiraiya whipped his head to the side and stared intently at my hiding spot, but Minato landed in the alley beside him before he could investigate further. It was a Saturday afternoon and he was dressed casually in dark sweatpants. A large knitted muffler was wrapped around his neck.</p><p>"Sensei, there you are," he exclaimed. "The gate guards said you had returned today, but I couldn't find you anywhere! I checked your house, the bathhouses, the bars… What are you doing here in the compound?"</p><p>Jiraiya visibly did not turn his gaze towards me, and he was very, very measured as he answered, "I was visiting your kid sister."</p><p>"Suzu? Was she asking you for sealing help again?" Minato wondered. Then he leaned forward into an apologetic bow. "I'm sorry, Sensei. I haven't been able to visit the House since I came back from the western front… if she's bothering you, I'll tell her to stop."</p><p>"Hey, don't worry about it for now. More importantly, did you need something, Minato?" Jiraiya evaded smoothly. Evidently he had decided that we would both be better off if Minato did not know exactly what manner of visit we had been engaged in. I was inclined to agree. "Why'd you need to come looking yourself? You should've just sent a hawk."</p><p>"I wanted to tell you in person!" Minato replied rather excitedly as he straightened his torso. "Sensei, you won't believe it. Kushina's pregnant! It's due in October!"</p><p>I slowly lifted my hands to cover my mouth, and Jiraiya's shoulders twitched as if he were suppressing the urge to whirl around. I scarcely could believe it. Had my life just been saved?</p><p>"You—" Jiraiya worked his jaw. "You're having a kid?"</p><p>"I know, I didn't believe it either," my brother laughed heartily. Then he glanced around and lowered his voice. "Actually, Kushina was really concerned at first. Well, she still is—she's worried about the seal. I figured between the two of us things would be all right, but we were wondering if we shouldn't ask you for your opinion, too, Sensei."</p><p>"I—" Jiraiya did glance over his shoulder then. Minato blinked as he teacher failed to reply.</p><p>"Sensei? Is something wrong?" Minato stepped forward and peered around Jiraiya's shoulder. I resisted the urge to squeak and redoubled my concentration.</p><p>"I… sorry," Jiraiya muttered and ran a hand through his spiky white mane. "I guess I'm more tired from travelling than I thought. But never mind—congratulations, you little nerd. You've finally managed to spawn a toad of your own."</p><p>"Jiraiya-sensei!" Minato half-protested, half-laughed. "Kushina would kill you if she heard you refer to her child as a toad, you know."</p><p>"I do know it." Jiraiya let out a half-laugh of his own. He regarded his student warmly. "Hey, Minato, it's great news. I'll come by tomorrow to talk, okay? I still have one more thing to handle before I'm free."</p><p>Evidently this was a line often heard because Minato didn't even wait to be asked for dismissal. I supposed that was what it was like to have a spymaster for one's mentor.</p><p>"Sure thing, Sensei," he replied. "I'll tell Kushina. Don't push yourself too hard, okay? You just got back, after all."</p><p>"You got it." Jiraiya lifted an arm in farewell. Minato grinned again, a grin happier than I might have ever seen, and hopped away to the nearest rooftop.</p><p>A moment of silence passed as we both waited for his chakra signature to blend away. Then Jiraiya immediately came over to the bush.</p><p>"If you've taken this chance to scurry away, you'll regret it," he muttered as he squatted, plunged his arms in, and began digging through the branches. I quickly dropped my techniques and crawled out. No way was I going to play any games with a threat like that.</p><p>"I didn't, I'm here," I said hurriedly. Jiraiya sat back on his heels and looked at me flatly.</p><p>"Are you really Suzu Namikaze?" he asked.</p><p>"I really am," I replied.</p><p>Jiraiya stared me down for a moment longer. Then he put a hand on his forehead and groaned.</p><p>"Kid, I don't even know where to begin. Where the hell did you find this scroll? And how in the hell does it know the future?"</p><p>I put a hand on my own head and sighed.</p><p>"Jiraiya-sama," I said distantly. "I'm about to tell you something absurd."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Vanishing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Previously: Kakashi and Suzu return to the village; Itsuki and Reiko offer insights on suffering; Jiraiya shows his dangerous side.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The silence stretched on. I adjusted the bag of ice on my head. Then Jiraiya put his palms down on the table.</p><p>"We have to tell Minato," he said. I looked away. "What, don't tell me you thought I would keep this a secret? The Hokage at the very least has to know, neverminding anyone else in the village administration."</p><p>"Of course he has to," I muttered. "I'm not saying you shouldn't tell him."</p><p>"Then what's the issue?"</p><p>I pursed my lips at him.</p><p>"Jiraiya-sama, I had information about the mission that killed Obito, but I held onto it, and now I've even replaced him on Minato-nii's team. The guilt crushed me so much that I dissociated almost every encounter I had with him until I ended up in the western ward. How could there not be an issue?"</p><p>"Obito's not dead," Jiraiya corrected as he lifted the scroll. "If anything that should make Minato happy."</p><p>"Happy that his student barely survived a crippling cave-in, got kidnapped by the ancient jaded Madara Uchiha, and has been driven half-mad?" I crossed my arms doubtfully. "Obito is coming to steal the Kyuubi, kill him and his wife, and destroy the village. I knew that all of this would happen if Obito went to Kannabi Bridge and I didn't lift a finger to stop it. Even if we can put personal betrayal aside—and I don't know if we can—that's plenty enough for treason, don't you think?"</p><p>"But he'll be happy regardless," Jiraiya maintained. "Once you're dead, that's the end, but if you're alive you can always change. In his heart Minato still believes in that sort of thing. As for treason—well, it's not my place to promise anything, but I know people who have been granted leniency for worse. Besides, this situation is unique altogether. This isn't information you acquired in the course of your duty as a shinobi… in fact, it was information you acquired before you were a ninja at all. And we can both see what kind of hardship you encountered while discharging it," he added wryly as he eyed my bag of ice.</p><p>I just continued to eye him doubtfully.</p><p>"Your worries aren't baseless," he allowed. "But unfortunately for you it's out of your hands now. If you didn't want him to know you should have kept quiet. It would have been doable enough to just get out of the way and let things come to pass, you know."</p><p>"I know I'm a coward," I answered coldly, "but I'm not so craven as all that."</p><p>Jiraiya frowned at me. I set my chin stubbornly.</p><p>"You used to give off the image of a sweet kid," he accused, "but whenever I see you these days you're not sweet at all. You're just sullen."</p><p>I regarded him with a flat look. "Is that so?"</p><p>"Why do you think I took you for an infiltrator?" he countered. "Sudden medical leave, sudden change in personality, unknowable classified information. You're a textbook case study of a foreign spy. And stop looking at me like that," he added in a complaining voice. "You look like Souhei."</p><p>I exhaled through my nose and tipped my chair back. Jiraiya's kitchen, which was clean and warm—if rather empty—was decorated with various wooden ornaments and paintings from across the continent. I put my ice on the table and stared at the one behind me upside-down.</p><p>"Excuse me for the familial resemblance," I muttered. Then I straightened up and dropped the chair back onto all four legs. "...Jiraiya-sama."</p><p>"What?" He eyed me knowingly.</p><p>"Would report it all to Minato-nii for me?" I asked quietly.</p><p>"What, alone?"</p><p>"I don't want to see his face when you tell him it was me," I confessed frankly. "I don't know if I could handle it. It'll be my worst nightmare come true."</p><p>Jiraiya regarded me for a long moment. Then he propped his chin up on his palm.</p><p>"Sometimes I forget, but Minato really is a manipulative little shit," he told me.</p><p>I gave him a stunned look. Where had that come from?</p><p>"Why would you say such a thing?" I asked with shock.</p><p>"Because it's true," Jiraiya replied. "Now that I think about it all you Namikaze kids are like that. When you say this sort of stuff I can't help but feel sorry for you."</p><p>"What do you mean? Why?"</p><p>"Because he plays you all for fools," he gave me a pitying look, "and you all dance along without a clue. Granted, it's not your fault. You're just kids and you don't know any better. Him, on the other hand..."</p><p>"What are you talking about?" Confusion began to give way to agitation. "Minato-nii wouldn't do something like that."</p><p>"And that's why I feel sorry," he shook his head. "Tell me, kid, if you were on a mission with one of your other cousins and they got hurt because you screwed up, what would you do? Let's say it's that Chiharu girl. Would you own up during the post-mission when she asked who it was, or would you keep quiet or blame it on someone else?"</p><p>"...No," I said. "That's not fair. I'd say it was me."</p><p>"Right. Now your cousin is royally pissed off at you. Let's say she's seriously injured to the point where it will affect her ability to take missions—maybe even permanently. What will you do? You're obviously going to feel bad—really bad. But are you going to walk around with a rope on your arm and a face like you'll go out to hang yourself if she so much as looks at you askance? You won't, am I right?"</p><p>"Of course not." I frowned at him. Chiharu and I fought sometimes, but on the whole we got along well enough. Sometimes if things were heated she might throw a punch, and I might punch back, but if I overreacted in the way Jiraiya suggested she would probably be more aggrieved than gratified.</p><p>"Then why are you like that with Minato?" he raised an eyebrow at me. "I'll tell you why. It's because he uses you for hero-worship like he does everyone else. Now I'm not saying he's doing it maliciously," Jiraiya held up a hand before I could cut in angrily. "He's doing it for his own needs. Kid, you don't know it, but Minato is a cripple without people's approval. He can't function without praise. Call it vanity, call it dysfunction, but that's how he is. He was a prodigy and he grew up that way. No matter how many times I've told him otherwise he thinks that if he's not being admired and applauded, he's a failure at existence."</p><p>I could only offer him a blank stare. "What—what are you saying?"</p><p>"I'm saying that when he feels bad about himself, he goes and puts a show on for you kids, and when you fall all over yourselves admiring him he feels better." Jiraiya put his arm down. "Kiddo, let me say something about you two. I was an orphan, too, and I lived with my cousins growing up, and this is why I feel sorry: though you're blood and you love each other, you don't treat each other like people. For your sake, I'll go ahead and tell him everything. But you need to consider what you're going to do going forward. Are you going to keep worshipping the ground he walks on and treating him like the be-all-end-all of everything? A man who has to use his baby cousins to validate his own existence?"</p><p>"How can that be? How could he fake so many accomplishments?" I asked. "He's a war hero."</p><p>"It's not a matter of faking achievement," Jiraiya shook his head. "He is a genius and that can't be denied. But his personality?"</p><p>I swallowed. "Are you suggesting—"</p><p>"I'm not suggesting anything," Jiraiya interrupted. "I'm saying it plainly. He's not a god, he's a man, and you're a kid from his clan, not a crutch for his unhealthy emotional needs. The way things are now isn't good for either of you. You know how to resolve conflict with your other cousins. Why is he the only one who's different?"</p><p>I stood then. My breathing was heavy.</p><p>"I'll leave the rest to you for now, Jiraiya-sama," I told him. "Please let me know what happens."</p><p>"Go calm down," he replied. "Even if I'll be the one to break the news to him, you're going to be needed before long. Get your brain together before that happens."</p><p>I responded by going to his kitchen window and throwing myself outside.</p>
<hr/><p>Three days later I stood in the Hokage's office and found that the world had been stripped bare. His smile was so wooden that it almost hurt to look at. Pretense had collapsed into a veneer thin enough to read through—and the text, I found, was bleeding red.</p><p>"You don't have to worry about anything from here," Minato eventually said, still forcing out that artificial smile. The look in his eyes reminded me of the night he'd returned from Kannabi Bridge—tense, wary, and full of strange fear. "Jiraiya-sensei explained everything. I'll handle it all from now on."</p><p>"Are you sure that's wise?" I asked quietly as I dropped my gaze and looked to the side. "I did as comprehensive write-up as I was able, but I'm the only person knows everything firsthand. You should take me with you when you go to meet Obito at the least. He's not the way he was."</p><p>"I'm sure," Minato replied firmly. "I know my team, Suzu. I don't need you to chaperone me no matter what skills he's acquired."</p><p>There was a tension between us that had never existed before. I didn't know what to feel. Jiraiya's words swam in my head and I thought about all of the days I had spent happy in my brother's lap. The quiet lessons, the encouraging smiles, the letters, the presents—all lies? Had none of it been real? Had it all been a transaction in his mind? Just—input brotherly affection, output naive sibling affirmation, just—just fuel for his self-esteem?</p><p>It was all just a mess. I looked down at notebook in my hands and thought about my own actions. People's lives were riding on this knowledge. If he had wronged me, what had I done to him? What could we even call this? It was his team, his village, his wife, his son, and his own life—</p><p>He had deceived me. I had deceived him. We stared at one another, both silently trying to calculate the breadth and depth and magnitude of the other's betrayal, but nothing seemed to parse. How angry were we supposed to be? Who did worse? Who deserved an apology?</p><p>"It's not a matter of skills," I said quietly. "That's not why I'm worried. I don't know if the write-up can properly convey the change that the Sharingan causes in an Uchiha when that sort of trauma occurs. He's—he really is unhinged, Minato-nii. He's not the Obito you know. He'll take advantage of it."</p><p>"I'll be the judge of that," Minato told me. His wooden smile began to splinter then, and I felt myself beginning to wither away. All in a moment I just wanted to disappear. I gathered the edges of my chakra and pulled them in, deep into my center, and held it there in the same way I would hold my breath when I didn't want to cry.</p><p>"I'm sorry," I uttered after a long moment. In the end the truth remained: I had been wrong to keep my silence. "I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner. I was scared of what would happen, but—but it's just excuses. I'm sorry."</p><p>Then I held my breath again. Minato's face went blank for a long moment. He looked down. Then he said, "What do you have to apologize for, Suzu? None of this is your fault."</p><p>There was a long silence. Longer than almost anything in my life—as long as a small eternity. Even he knew it was a bad lie.</p><p>"We have several preparations to make if we want to be ready for the birth date," he said after he eventually recovered. "It'll take several months to alter village security. Things will be quite busy—let's talk another time, Suzu."</p><p>A minute later I found myself standing blankly in the hall. I stared down at the floor for a long minute. Then I put my hands over my face, walked to the end of the corridor, and squatted behind a potted plant in silence until water finally ceased to leak from my eyes.</p>
<hr/><p>"Suzu?" Auntie glanced into the kitchen when she heard the sound of the mug shattering, but I was still too frozen to get up from my frightened crouch. When she saw me hunched over and clutching my chest, she leaped forward to kneel beside me. "Suzu? What's wrong?"</p><p>"I—" I said, and then stopped, and then stammered, "I can't—I can't feel my… m-my—"</p><p>My heartbeat, I could not say. Even with my hand stuffed down my shirt, directly against my skin, I could not feel my heartbeat, and no matter how hard I listened, even with chakra sense, I could not feel a pulse of anything. Not my blood, not my chakra, nor even my breath—but then again, I was not really breathing easy now at all.</p><p>"Your heart?" One of my aunt's hands flew to my back while the other shot up to feel my wrist. "Can you tell me what's wrong? Is there a pain? Is it radiating?"</p><p>"I—no, I—" I was gasping, but I wasn't hurting. It was just, it was so silent—like I had ceased to exist even though I was still right here, like I was gone, but I was still alive—</p><p>"Sweetheart, you're still cloaking, I can't hear you," Auntie told me as she leaned forward and put her ear near my chest. "—Here, move your hand for me, please. Suzu, let go of your cloaking technique so I can listen for what's wrong."</p><p>"I—what? But—but I'm not—"</p><p>"Honey, I know you don't want to break a practice streak, but you've been doing total erasure for days. Let it go," Auntie interrupted before I could deny I was cloaking. "Please, do it now. You're still learning and it's dangerous. Your heart's not used to chakra deprivation. You could have an arrest."</p><p>My brain flew into overdrive. Deprivation? A heart attack? What was she—?</p><p>Suddenly Uncle Souhei appeared beside Auntie. He crouched down and brushed her hand away before he tapped my sternum with three fingers. Though his touch had been light I immediately felt like I'd been kicked in the chest by a horse, and I fell backwards into my aunt's arms with a gasp. Blood rushed to my head and my ears began ringing with sudden clamor. But I then began to feel warm, like I'd stepped into a firelit room after standing a double shift in cold rain, and my fingertips and toes began to burn with pleasant heat. The pressure between my temples suddenly eased, too, and breathing became much easier.</p><p>"Her tenketsu must have been locked up after suppressing her chakra for so long," my uncle decided as he put one hand on my stomach, over the Hara, and began fishing in his pockets with the other.</p><p>"Her signature's skipping," Auntie Reiko noted as she worriedly tilted her head. It was easy to forget she was a formidable auditory sensor herself, but in moments like these I was always reminded. "Souhei..."</p><p>"That's not unexpected after nearly a week of high-ratio suppression," Uncle replied as he produced a stethoscope and laid its cold diaphragm against my skin. Several beats passed as he listened. Then he said, "There's a systolic murmur. It's loud. We should stop by the hospital… she might be fine, but I'd rather have them check."</p><p>"What?" I asked, utterly bewildered. Auntie lowered me gently. "What's…?"</p><p>"Misuzu, you are extremely fortunate," Uncle Souhei replied as his wife ran out into the hall and called for Akira to watch the babies. His tone was quite cool. "I know you've decided to make infiltration your trade and it's impressive that you've been practicing such advanced concealment techniques. But if you'd been outside when this happened you would have collapsed and no one relying on chakra sense would have been able to find you. If you know enough to be trying things like total signature erasure you should be well aware of the dangers of chakra deprivation. What were you thinking?"</p><p>"I… I have no idea what you're talking about, Uncle," I said as he lifted me from the kitchen floor, sidestepped the remains of the broken mug, and settled me into a princess carry. "What is total signature erasure?"</p><p>At this point my foster parents and I were already halfway out the door. My aunt and uncle both gave me unamused looks.</p><p>"It's not like you to try playing stupid, Suzu," Auntie said warningly.</p><p>"Auntie—" I protested.</p><p>"Misuzu, you are on thin ice," Uncle Souhei told me darkly. "I would suggest you not push it—"</p><p>He cut himself off when we made eye contact. Auntie paused. My parents exchanged looks.</p><p>"What is total signature erasure?" I repeated. "I know layer techniques, I know muffle techniques, and I know blending techniques. But I don't know what erasure is. How would you even do it? Oyuki told me the way to hide was behind signatures in the environment."</p><p>"...Ideally, that is what one does," Uncle Souhei eventually replied. "But in cases where there are no other signatures—where you are in an inorganic environment without the natural chakra of flora or fauna, or in a place where all other shinobi are concealing themselves—there is nothing to hide behind. In those cases the only way to disguise one's signature is to still circulation completely."</p><p>"But that would kill you," I pointed out with confusion.</p><p>"Indeed," was the very dry reply.</p><p>"Total signature erasure is a technique that slows the body's chakra circulation to the most minimum amount necessary to support life," Auntie cut in. She gave my uncle a disapproving look for his snark. "It's a very fine line to toe. You have been getting quieter and quieter all week, so I assumed that you were just trying to find that spot on the line. But if you haven't been trying to figure out erasure, what in the world have you been doing with your chakra?"</p><p>And suddenly I felt small and withered again, just like I did when I had been standing in Minato's office. I sucked in a breath and held it.</p><p>"Suzu," Uncle Souhei suddenly regarded me sharply.</p><p>"Oh," I said. And then it made sense.</p><p>When we arrived at the hospital my parents took me straight to acute care and explained that I'd been doing signature erasure without supervision. I was immediately treated to another lecture even as I was stripped, thrown into hospital clothes, and subjected to all the manner of poking and prodding and tests. Several tens of minutes passed before I was alone with my parents again.</p><p>"I wanted to be invisible," I finally admitted once we had been shoved into an observation room and told to wait for the doctor to return. "I wanted to vanish so no one would see me. I wanted them to forget I was there. And when I held my breath it felt like I was quieter… so I held my breath a lot this week."</p><p>This proclamation was met with startled silence. Auntie and Uncle traded glances. Then they regarded me with identical looks of concern.</p><p>"Suzu," Auntie said, "why would you feel that way? Why would you need to vanish?"</p><p>I looked away and was unable to reply.</p>
<hr/><p>I was in the hospital for nearly three weeks after that, having messed up my tenketsu, my circulatory system, and my heart all at once. Upon request my Uncle brought me my I&amp;E scrolls, and once I had located the treatise on advanced chakra concealment, I spent a solid afternoon reading up on the effects of continuous high-ratio chakra suppression and deprivation. I was flabbergasted that I had so nearly managed to stumble into death just by holding my chakra in my stomach. If it was this easy, I thought, it was a wonder most ninja were alive at all.</p><p>"On the contrary," Uncle rebuffed as he calmly lifted a fruit from the small bowl of apples—a gift from Itsuki-sensei, apparently, sent with wishes to get well soon—and began to peel it. "It takes very precise chakra control to be able to seal the central tenketsu both well enough and long enough to experience actual deprivation. It is not easy at all. It speaks quite well to how much your chakra control has grown, actually, especially since you were holding them shut without thinking..." He peered at me over the rims of his glasses. He was not so frigid now that he knew what had happened was an accident; now he only looked thoughtful. "...So well, in fact, that I'm inclined to wonder if you wouldn't be interested in studying medical ninjutsu in the future."</p><p>I blinked at him. And then I blinked again. Had Uncle Souhei ever offered to teach any of the House children iryou ninjutsu?</p><p>"There was your cousin Naoki, but you wouldn't remember him. He'd be Minato's age, but he died only a few months after you were born. Since him not many have had chakra control advanced enough." He looked at me contemplatively. "I didn't get started on total signature erasure until I was in my final year as journeyman iryou-nin, you know."</p><p>I knew from speaking with Koharu that a journeyman medic was skilled enough to receive favorable—for certain values of favorable, anyway—treatment as a prisoner during wartime. That meant having mastery over a fair bit of advanced jutsu. In the last year of that level, Uncle would have to have been a step away from full certification.</p><p>"How old were you?" I asked.</p><p>"Well, not a terribly lot older than you are now," Uncle admitted. "But we are hardly the norm."</p><p>I found my eyebrows creasing. His phrasing made me frown in puzzlement. Why were we in particular any different from normal? But before I could open my mouth to question him there was a knock on my door. Uncle Souhei and I swung our heads about in synchronization as it slid open.</p><p>"...Jiraiya-sama," my uncle said, expression cooling rapidly, as the man in question stepped into the room. "What brings you here?"</p><p>Jiraiya's face grew equally shaded when he laid eyes on Uncle Souhei. "Souhei Namikaze," he greeted with equivalent warmth—that is to say, with a lack of it. "I have business with your daughter. I'd like to speak to her."</p><p>Uncle did not budge. "I see," he said.</p><p>"In private," the Sannin added waspishly.</p><p>Uncle did not look impressed. "There is no way you have business classified enough to justify kicking me out of this child's hospital room," he declared flatly.</p><p>"That's not for you to decide, is it, Namikaze? Don't make me pull rank on you."</p><p>It was strange to see Jiraiya, who was normally so open and loud, with such cold and quiet disdain on his face. In contrast, Uncle Souhei was beginning to look uncharacteristically hot beneath the collar.</p><p>Jiraiya raised an eyebrow. "Now, if you please."</p><p>Uncle Souhei stood and regarded Jiraiya with profound distaste. Wordlessly, he put down his paring knife and strode from the room with his hands curled into fists and his nostrils flaring. I watched him go with unconcealed awe, never having seen him behave with such unobscured anger.</p><p>As soon as he was gone Jiraiya's shoulders sagged.</p><p>"That man never fails to put me on edge," he grumbled as he shut the door and made his way to my bedside. "I wish he'd skip the passive aggression and just speak his mind for once."</p><p>"You weren't kidding when you said you didn't get along," I observed. "I don't know of many things that can make him as angry as he was just now."</p><p>"Yeah, well. Special treatment for a special guy," was the muttered reply.</p><p>And wasn't that a fascinating response. It was clear they had a history.</p><p>"Anyway," Jiraiya cleared his throat as he sat down. "Back in the hospital already, kiddo? What's wrong this time?"</p><p>"Chakra deprivation," I mumbled, shrinking back into my pillows. "I'm here under observation until my heart and my tenketsu are regular again."</p><p>Jiraiya stared at me in disbelief. "How the hell did you screw yourself up that badly?" he asked, aghast.</p><p>"I was um, ah—doing total signature erasure," I said. At this point it didn't even feel like a lie anymore. I had been doing it, anyway, even if I hadn't known it.</p><p>Jiraiya whistled. "That's some intricate stuff for a brat your age. You're wasted in the general platoons."</p><p>There were so many things I thought I might say to that, but in the end I just bit my tongue and stared at him. He sobered.</p><p>"All right, that's enough of banter," the Toad Sage sighed. "Down to business. We've got a lot to talk about, kid… I don't even know where to start."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. October Tenth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Previously: Jiraiya shares something about Minato; Suzu is hospitalized after an accident with chakra cloaking; Souhei and Jiraiya butt heads when Jiraiya comes to visit.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So the General Forces will be split," I repeated. "The genin teams and a portion of the general platoons will be responsible for coordinating the evacuations and guarding the shelters. The Jounin Commander will take charge of the rest to establish perimeters around the most vulnerable structures. Meanwhile the Special Forces will be searching for Obito. You will be with the Barrier Corps to manage the village wards and prevent the Nine-tails from entering the village on the chance that it breaks the seal."</p><p>"That's the plan, more or less. The ANBU won't know Obito by name, of course."</p><p>"...And what about Kushina? Are there no extra protections there? If she becomes separated from Minato, the Kyuubi's as good as out," I pointed out. That was exactly how Obito had managed the attack the first time.</p><p>"We've anticipated that," Jiraiya replied as he pulled out a small sheaf of sealing paper. "Here. Reinforcement and containment seals. In case Minato gets pulled away like he was in your story, Biwako-sama and her student will use these. The ANBU guards will have them as well. It should be enough to hold things in place long enough for him to make it back."</p><p>"And Obito?" I asked doubtfully. "The first time around he slaughtered everyone besides Kushina and Minato themselves. What will happen if Biwako-sama and the others are taken out?"</p><p>"That's the point of the roaming ANBU squads. Obito won't get near the safehouse this time."</p><p>"How can you be so sure the ANBU will manage to locate him? Moreover—how can they even detain him? They won't be able to lay a finger on him."</p><p>"The ANBU Commander and his men have been apprised of our 'mysterious enemy's' abilities," replied Jiraiya as he made air quotes with his fingers. "They are working out countermeasures. Failing that, well… Minato has been putting together a void box. A seal that can restrict space-time ninjutsu."</p><p>"A… void box?" I repeated. "To restrict—is that working?"</p><p>"Of course it is," Jiraiya snorted. "He's been throwing out prototypes left and right. Right now he's testing them by breaking out with Hiraishin. This is the same brat who shit out an improvised stasis seal fit enough to use on a live human being, remember? He came up with something like that with nothing but a few minutes and a body bag scroll. Who knows what monster prison field he'll have time to make before October."</p><p>Indeed. If Minato could devise a seal to save Rin's life in a handful of minutes, there was no doubting what he would achieve to save the lives of his family and village with over half a year at his disposal.</p><p>"Okay," I said and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Okay, so let's assume everything goes as planned. Everyone is evacuated, the village is secured, Kushina is safe, and Obito is detained by ANBU. What happens then? Void box or no, we can't just keep a half-insane S-ranked missing-nin locked up in the village forever. He will find a way to break out and we will all still be in danger."</p><p>Jiraiya winced. "Well."</p><p>Oh no. I didn't like that. "What?" I asked warily.</p><p>"Minato—well. Minato thinks that he can talk Obito back to our side."</p><p>I paused. Then I said, "In the series, Obito killed a lot of people before he turned back."</p><p>"So I read." Jiraiya sighed. "But you realize that in this whole village no one but Minato himself would be powerful enough to defeat him."</p><p>I paused again. Then I twisted my fingers together and mumbled, "When I told Minato-nii he needed backup, he refused and told me he would take care of it."</p><p>Jiraiya tipped his chair back and groaned. "That idiot. Acting like he has the room to indulge his damn complexes."</p><p>"Is that it? It's not that he just hates me now and won't work with me?" I hung my head.</p><p>Jiraiya looked at me and then sighed. "Kid, I told you you needed to sort this out."</p><p>"Easier said than done!" I bit back angrily. "He's not your big brother! You didn't grow up loving him the same way we did. Niichan is the whole reason I became a ninja in the first place."</p><p>And then, quite before I even knew what was happening, I found myself bursting into sobs. Jiraiya jerked back, startled.</p><p>"What can I do?" I wept furiously. "I know I was wrong! I know I should have told him sooner! I should have done something before Obito became this way. I should have done something before any of it came to this! But it's already happened and I can't change it anymore. All I can do is try to help now. But he won't let me. I can't do anything!"</p><p>"Hey, hey! Kid! Shh!" Jiraiya panicked and began patting my back anxiously. "Kiddo! Don't cry! If your uncle hears you he'll come in here and murder me before either of us will have a chance to explain, classified info or not. Hey, shh, it's okay! Calm down. It's okay."</p><p>Several moments passed before I managed to stop crying. "I'm sorry," I hiccupped miserably.</p><p>"No, kid, I'm the one who's sorry," Jiraiya groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands. "I shouldn't be bullying you about all this while you're in the hospital of all places. Don't apologize. I know you're trying your best. Minato understands that, too. And you know what, kid? Let me tell you something. The reason why he doesn't want you to come along isn't because he hates you. It's because he doesn't want you to see him struggle. He doesn't want to be seen without his mask."</p><p>"You mean…?" I managed to squeeze out. Jiraiya heaved a sigh.</p><p>"I always told him being two-faced would come back to bite him in the ass," he muttered under his breath. "Figures it'd bite mine, too."</p><p>"Jiraiya-sama…"</p><p>"Don't worry, kid," Jiraiya patted my back again. "Give it time. He's off balance and he doesn't know how to present himself to you right now; give him a chance to regain his composure. Everything will be all right."</p>
<hr/><p>April came and my heart returned to normal. After confirming that my tenketsu were functioning properly again, I was released from the hospital once more. By chance this coincided with Kakashi receiving permission to resume combat duties, and then suddenly we, carried through by the force of many years' habit, found ourselves lined up at the Missions Office again.</p><p>We had become a strange pair. Our partnership was a very uneven one. Without exception Kakashi was more advanced than me in every single combat field; ninjutsu and genjutsu, taijutsu and bukijutsu—there was nothing in which I could compare. And how would I be expected to? Even if he was only a year or so older than me, he was prodigy and a jounin. But despite all that it could not be said that he was necessarily better at me in everything, because he was not.</p><p>With release from the hospital came the sudden advent of hiding superpowers. Maybe it was all the reading I had done when I had first been hospitalized, but even without relying on signature erasure something about concealment techniques seemed to just click. Blending and layering—there was a strange groove to them now, and somehow it was so much easier to listen to the chakra all around me and find small crevices to disappear into. I could just take a moment, synchronize my breathing, and melt away into it... I had found my spot in the quiet and not even Kakashi could join me there. The feeling never ceased to amaze me no matter how many times I practiced.</p><p>"So did you fight the bandits, neechan?" Haruka asked raptly.</p><p>"I didn't," I replied as I ruffled her hair amusedly. "I snuck in and took back the goods. Kakashi was the one who provided a distraction. He managed to draw everyone out of the base with just a shadow clone."</p><p>Kakashi was stiff as he sat on the veranda with us. His back stayed ramrod straight no matter how many times I invited him inside, but lately Auntie and Uncle—who had recalled tales of vicious bullying—had stopped eyeing him with so much suspicion. Haruka began scooting forward as she regarded my teammate with shiny eyes.</p><p>"Oh, wow," she mumbled. "That's really cool."</p><p>I could not help but begin laughing behind my hand as Kakashi squirmed under my baby cousin's gaze. Though lately she was a baby less and less; apparently she was doing very well at the Academy.</p><p>"Do you like Kakashi-nii very much, Haruka?" I asked teasingly. Haruka, though, turned to me without an ounce of jest in her eyes.</p><p>"When I get bigger I'll marry him," she informed matter-of-factly.</p><p>A stunned silence fell over the room. Kakashi froze. I heard Uncle suddenly excuse himself to the kitchen; a moment later there was the telltale gasping of muffled laughter.</p><p>That day Kakashi seemed to gain the trust of my foster parents. A little while later Auntie came over with popsicles for the three of us, and Haruka began to hang over his lap with blissful ignorance. I suspected he didn't know how to react to such open physical affection; I doubted his childhood had been filled with many hugs or cuddles.</p><p>"You can stay for dinner if you like," I offered when he made to rise half an hour or so later. Haruka had been drawn into a game of ninja with her agemates and wandered off into the village some ten minutes earlier. The pleasant smell of roasted vegetables wafted through the warm summer air, and I found myself thinking it'd be an awful shame to send him home to an empty kitchen. At the very least we owed him a meal for the entertainment of enduring Haruka's newfound love. Kakashi, though, just shook his head and mumbled something.</p><p>"Pardon?"</p><p>"No," he said a little louder. "I… shouldn't. I'm sorry about today."</p><p>I blinked. Kakashi refused to look me in the eye.</p><p>"...Auntie, I'm gonna walk Kakashi home," I called a moment later.</p><p>"Be back in half an hour, dinner'll be done soon," she yelled back.</p><p>My teammate's shoulders were slumped as we walked the road out of the compound and onto the main street. For a while we were silent. Then I asked, "What's wrong?"</p><p>"It's nothing really," Kakashi muttered unconvincingly.</p><p>I gave him a look. Then I asked, "Why were you sorry?"</p><p>"I—" Kakashi started. Then his shoulders slumped again. "Your cousin. Haruka."</p><p>I stared at him again, but he didn't say anything else. "...What about her?"</p><p>"About… you know, what she said."</p><p>I didn't know. Kakashi saw my uncomprehending face and let out a frustrated breath.</p><p>"She—she likes me."</p><p>"Yeah..." I agreed quizzically.</p><p>"And you're okay with that?"</p><p>"What, with Haruka having a crush? I was surprised, but now that I think about it she is about that age..."</p><p>"No, that's not what I mean," Kakashi made an agitated gesture. "You're okay with her liking someone like me?"</p><p>And there was an interesting sight into the mind of my teammate. I halted on the street and gave him a scrutinizing look. Kakashi stopped as well. His neck immediately bent and his eye fixed on his sandals.</p><p>"I'm okay with it, yeah," I said. "But you aren't."</p><p>"I…" Kakashi said haltingly.</p><p>A long moment passed. I waited patiently to hear what my teammate had to say, but he remained stubbornly silent. After a while I opened my mouth to speak once more, but suddenly we found ourselves being swarmed by a crowd of Academy students.</p><p>"Kakashi-san! Imouto-sama!"</p><p>It took me a moment to realize that I was being addressed; at that point in my life, "imouto-sama" was not a name I knew. For a moment I was bewildered. But then, as if summoned, a distant Earth memory floated towards the front of my mind: Konohamaru, running angrily from the Tower, and the guards shouting <em>omago-sama</em> after him. Omago-sama—Honorable Grandson.</p><p>Honorable Little Sister?</p><p>"What… what is it?" Kakashi managed to ask as he speedily disengaged from their grabbing hands. As soon as he had gotten free he planted himself firmly behind my shoulder, leaving me to pat frenetically at the heads of the children suddenly surrounding us.</p><p>"Kouji and Kaneko told us about you!" the boy at the front of the crowd exclaimed. "And it's true! You're in the Bingo Book just like they said. Here!"</p><p>This proclamation was accompanied by another child thrusting a Bingo Book under my nose. I had to cross my eyes a little, but sure enough they were there: Kakashi's entry and my entry, appended to Minato's.</p><p>"Yes, that's right," I said a little dazedly. "Um…"</p><p>"It says here that Kakashi-san is an A-rank ninja!" the boy said wildly. "How come you're so strong even though you're not a grown-up yet?"</p><p>"It says you have a Sharingan! Are you an Uchiha?"</p><p>"You really do have a ponytail just like this one, imouto-sama!"</p><p>"Is it true you killed a whole company of Iwa ninja?"</p><p>In an instant Kakashi and I were cringing in horror. They held no malice as they fell upon us with their barrage of questions, but childish innocence did very little to soften the cut of their queries. For a moment we stood as if against a wave, and Kakashi and I caught one another's hands as we stumbled backwards. His grip was as white-knuckled as mine. But then a savior appeared.</p><p>"Hey," Itsuki-sensei said firmly as he inserted himself between us and the tiny mob. He was carrying a large crate on his shoulder, but he used his free hand to reach out and gently flick the forehead of the nearest student. "What are you all doing? It's nearly one o'clock. Shouldn't you kids be heading back to the Academy before recess ends?"</p><p>A shout rose from the group when they looked over their shoulders at a large lamppost clock. As quickly as they had come, they went, waving over their shoulders and shouting farewells. Kakashi and I, panting heavily, found our feet and took a moment to catch our breaths.</p><p>"Mighty are the masses," Itsuki-sensei commented as he watched their retreating backs. "Any rank would struggle against that enemy."</p><p>I immediately released Kakashi's hand and threw my arms around Itsuki-sensei's waist in reply.</p><p>"Oof," he said as he lifted a hand to stabilize the load on his shoulder. Once he had, though, he patted my head. "Hey, Suzu-chan. Feeling all right these days? No aftereffects from the spring?"</p><p>"I'm okay," I said into my teacher's shirt. "Thank you, Sensei."</p><p>"Thank you, Mikawaya-san," Kakashi said. When I looked over he was rapidly straightening his clothes and clearing his throat in an attempt to salvage his usual cool composure.</p><p>"Not at all, Kakashi-kun."</p><p>When Itsuki-sensei resumed walking towards his shop I found myself right on his heels. Kakashi stood still for a moment before trailing after me.</p><p>"So you two are back to business as usual, huh?" Itsuki-sensei said once we had arrived and he'd set his burden down. He looked at me sidelong with his question clear in his eyes. I wrung my hands a little and shrugged helplessly. He gave me a worried look.</p><p>"Yes," Kakashi answered, seeming to miss this exchange.</p><p>"Well, so long as you don't overdo it," Itsuki-sensei told me softly. "Take it easy. And come by anytime."</p><p>"Yeah," I said. We found ourselves both looking at Kakashi together. "...Yeah, I figure I'll come by again soon."</p><p>Kakashi tilted his head back at us, and I found myself wondering for his future. If I retired, he would be alone. He would have no reason to come to the House and write reports with me on the veranda, and Haruka's crush would come to nothing.</p><p>Maybe he would like that, I realized distantly. As my teammate turned and began wandering towards the back of the shop, I looked up at Itsuki-sensei.</p><p>"Sensei, why did you stay a shinobi for as long as you did?" I asked quietly. Itsuki-sensei gave me a knowing look.</p><p>"I could tell you that," he said after a while. "But it wouldn't help you. You're asking a question no one else can answer, Suzu-chan."</p><p>For a long moment I couldn't find the words to speak. I thought of sitting on floor in the dark with my aunt. Then, unexpectedly, a feeling of burning anger rose in my chest.</p><p>"Don't you think I've been looking for an answer on my own already?" I asked in a furious whisper. "Don't you think I've been trying to figure it out on my own? I can't go on, but I can't stop. Every time I think of trying I talk myself out of it. You all say I have to find the answer for myself, but how can I when no one will help—"</p><p>Suddenly my teacher caught my hand and held it. My voice caught in my throat.</p><p>"I know, Suzu-chan," he told me quietly. "I know."</p>
<hr/><p>The day of October the tenth dawned. If the civilians were wise to the true nature of the "drill" they did not elect to display it. The ninja, on the other hand, were blatantly on edge. None but the top echelons had been explicitly informed, but the rest of the Forces could tell well enough that there would be an attack today. I did my best not to give anything away to my family. This effort was met with decent success; I found I had become good at not giving things away lately.</p><p>I had just finished filling my pack and restocking my master seal with wire when Akira appeared in the doorway. He twisted his fingers together anxiously as he waited for me to finish fixing my hair into a low bun.</p><p>"What's wrong?" I asked. The House children were all in the portion of the Forces assigned to the shelters. I had purposely lingered; most of my cousins had already gone ahead.</p><p>"It's—" Akira bit his lip and then began motioning me out to the hallway. Curious, I stood and followed him to the stairs. "It's Auntie and Uncle."</p><p>Together we kneeled down on the landing and peered past the railing into the sitting room. Auntie and Uncle were standing across from each other and exchanging heated words under their breaths. Realizing what Akira wanted me to do, I looked to him for confirmation. He nodded worriedly, so I began making the seals for the eavesdropping jutsu.</p><p>"—please, Souhei."</p><p>"I can't tell you, Reiko."</p><p>Auntie made a small, frustrated noise. "Souhei," she said in a low tone, "I know there are things in your life you can't share with me. And I understand that there are times when you have to go away. But if you are planning to die today, you can't just walk away saying 'I can't tell you.'"</p><p>My eyebrows shot up. Akira caught hold of my sleeve and opened his mouth to say something, but I quickly held a finger to my lips and continued listening carefully.</p><p>"It's not anything like that," Uncle Souhei muttered. "I never said anything like that."</p><p>"Then tell me, what are you saying, Souhei? You won't look me in the eyes. You refused to speak with the children this morning. You are acting like a man getting ready for a suicide mission."</p><p>"...It's nothing like that. Nothing will happen to me today."</p><p>"I don't believe you," Auntie told him flatly.</p><p>"Believe what you want, then," Uncle finally snapped back. "I've already accepted that what will happen will happen. If you want to spend this morning picking a fight with me, then do as you like."</p><p>"Souhei—" Auntie raised her voice as my Uncle broke away and went for the door. "Souhei! Souhei, come back here and talk to me, you—!"</p><p>The only reply was a curt slam.</p><p>Akira and I exchanged ashen looks. "Something's wrong with Uncle Souhei," I whispered as we both stood. "Auntie thought he was hiding something and wanted him to tell her what was going on, but he got angry and left."</p><p>"Ohh," Akira mumbled, pulled at his hair anxiously, and quickly pattered down the steps. As he made a beeline for Auntie I shot down the stairs and out the door after my uncle.</p><p>"Uncle Souhei," I called after I'd used chakra sense to find him on a nearby rooftop. He was looking over the compound with grim resignation on his face. When he turned to me, his eyebrows creased.</p><p>"Suzu," he muttered with enough grief to make me stop short. "...Did your aunt send you?"</p><p>"No, I eavesdropped," I admitted. Then I regarded him worriedly. His eyes were tortured and his face was crumbling into so much sorrow that one would think the whole clan was inches from annihilation. I opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong; but then quite suddenly I found myself being crushed in an embrace. He pulled my head into his chest and held me there.</p><p>"I'm sorry, Suzu," he whispered. "I'm sorry. No, it's not me that's going away. I don't know why—I don't know why things are happening differently—but I'm still… still—"</p><p>"What?" I was flummoxed. It was not that my uncle was necessarily averse to physical affection; he did, after all, give out hugs and forehead-kisses with frequency. But by and large he was a very stoic man and not at all prone to dramatic emotional displays.</p><p>"I'm sorry," he repeated. He held me a little longer. Then he released me. "I just—you should go. I'm sorry I wasn't a better father to you, Suzu."</p><p>"What are you talking about?" No wonder Auntie had been concerned. What else could that sound like but suicide talk? "You're always watching out for your family."</p><p>"Except for when it counts," Uncle said. "Never when it counts."</p><p>He made to leave, but I opened my mouth to protest and darted a hand out to stop him. He paused when I caught his sleeve. He was still long enough that I thought he had decided to stay; but then, with shocking coldness, he pulled his arm away. He had vanished into the streets before I had a chance to make a single noise.</p>
<hr/><p>I stood conflicted for a long moment before I was forced to acknowledge there was no time to pursue Uncle Souhei. It would be evening before Obito arrived, but I needed to be within the hospital well before then, and I had a feeling that the infiltration would be neither quick nor easy.</p><p>Getting into the hospital itself was no problem. To get past the perimeter I only had to imply in a sufficiently harried manner that I had an urgent message for my supervising officer. Once I was actually inside it was just assumed that I was meant to be there; I made my way toward the secure wing without any harassment. But that was where the lucky breaks ended, for standing watch at the head of the hall was a lion-masked ANBU. He was plainly on high alert, and his gaze swept up and down the corridor with a hawk-like sharpness.</p><p>I pulled up my black hood and let out a sigh as I ducked around the corner. It was, I reflected, both good news and bad news. The good news was that if there was an ANBU guard here my guess was almost certainly correct—that if Minato intended to try and talk Obito back to Konoha's side, he would do it by showing that Rin was still alive, and that destroying the village would destroy her. The bad news, of course, went without saying.</p><p>I considered my options carefully. I was already cloaking. Since my hospitalization earlier in the year I had been very careful not to reinjure myself, but since I had become aware of the actual mechanics of total signature erasure it was easy enough to put into practice. If there were sensors in the guard—and of course there were—that would hide me from their view. The issue now would be avoiding visual contact. Thanks to my time in I&amp;E I had a variety of disillusionment techniques in my toolbox, mostly genjutsu-based. But choosing the right ones to use would be the real challenge. Projection-type genjutsu would help me avoid grabbing the attention of any specific guard, but if they had illusion wards—and they very likely would considering that our opponent was an Uchiha—my position would be gone in an instant. Hooked genjutsu—genjutsu visible only to a specific person, made possible by creating a "hook" in his or her chakra system—would help me avoid tripping a ward, but I was not a specialist. I didn't have much confidence that my attempts at environmental reconstruction would be good enough to fool anyone with even a small amount of advanced resistance training.</p><p>In the end I decided against genjutsu and instead deployed the more technically difficult <em>meisaigakure no jutsu</em>—the Hiding with Camouflage Technique. It was more difficult because it required the user to saturate her skin with chakra and use it to manipulate the bending of light around her whole body. Because of that it also had the added disadvantage of creating a slight visual distortion; from a distance, this was not very noticeable, but it would not hold up under close inspection. But if genjutsu concealment was too risky camouflage was still better than nothing.</p><p>After I had concentrated hard enough to get the technique in place, I threw on the usual trinity of heat-masking, scent-concealing, and sound-suppressing jutsu before I ducked back out to the main hall and looked for a window. Once I had confirmed that there was no one around to see me I silently opened it, slipped out, and shut it again. Then I carefully made my way around the eaves and towards the hall which the ANBU was guarding. From there I could see that there were several others patrolling.</p><p>I spent nearly an hour stuck there to the side of the building, waiting for my chance and wondering if I would be better served by finding a different point of entry. It was a secure wing so most of the actual patient rooms didn't have windows; and even if I were so lucky for Rin to be in one of those few windowed rooms, they were all heavily warded. The time it would take to penetrate each one until I found her would be prohibitively long. In fact, it was going to be a challenge to even get in through a hallway window.</p><p>Finally a gap in the patrol game. I quickly scooted over to the window and set to examining it. I was careful not to touch it without identifying any alarm seals first. It didn't take me long to find them, though; they were posted at the four corners of the frame and they were all inaccessible from the outside.</p><p>Well, that would be a problem. I shimmied away from the window again to think. Then I crouched, stuck myself by the feet to the underside of the eave, and began rummaging in my pack for my scrolls. I went through several before I found the one on sealing security systems.</p><p>It was another half hour of poring over the diagrams before I found a quartet-type barrier seal that matched the one I had seen on the window. It was very old—almost from the time of the Shodaime—and once I had read more in particular about its mechanisms I realized that there had been several innovations in fuuinjutsu that had since rendered the thing obsolete; Kushina, after going through a few similarly dated barrier seals in Minato's old notebooks with me, had told me as much. Thus enlightened, five minutes later saw me using a felt-tip marker to draw hurriedly on the glass.</p><p>The seal I drew was a set of five mechanisms colloquially referred to as "the lock picks." I was not wise enough in the ways of sealing to know the exact workings of it, but I was good enough at memorizing set arrays; I wouldn't be able to use the Strings of Fate jutsu otherwise.</p><p>After I had finished my scribblings I slapped a handful of chakra on the glass and held my breath. The black markings glowed briefly blue before they faded, signalling success. Silently pumping my fist, I took another cursory glance around before I quickly opened the window. The frame was stiff with disuse, but with some effort the pane lifted and I was able to squeeze inside. After landing in the hall I hastily forced it shut again.</p><p>The halls were very still and the silent run through them was surreal as a dream. I sensed carefully, moved quickly, and checked around corners with a mirror to evade guards. I had to concentrate so hard I couldn't even marvel at making it so far. There was no leisure to even think such things.</p><p>But then, after several long and worried minutes, I found it: Rin Nohara's nameplate. My breath caught in my throat as I peered out from my corner. She was here. I only had to hide myself inside.</p><p>I rose from my crouch. Then his blade was at my throat, and in the very same moment, mine was at his. My breath was caught only for a moment; then I realized what had happened: I was staring into the dark eyes of a painted mask. The patrol had found me, and we had one another at knifepoint.</p><p>"This is a restricted area," the ANBU said. "Identify yourself at once."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. The Suspension</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Previously: In the spring, preparations for October are underway; in the summer, Suzu continues to struggle with the question of retirement; in the fall, many things happen, including an unexpected encounter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My inner panic instantly morphed into shock. I knew that voice. I knew it like it was my very own.</p><p>"Speak," Akihiko ordered sharply. "If you cannot be identified as an authorized unit you will be removed."</p><p>"Akihiko?" was my dumbfounded reply.</p><p>The figure standing before me, unlike the other ANBU I had seen today, was clearly not yet an adult. His voice, too, was boyish, though still deeper than when I had been with him. He twitched. Then he shoved his face into mine to see under my hood.</p><p>"Suzu?" he hissed as he withdrew his knife. "What are you doing here?"</p><p>"We've been trying to contact you for ages," I replied blankly. And it was true. I still checked in with his father once or twice a month. But we had never found a way to speak with his son and we had resigned ourselves to never knowing his fate.</p><p>Akihiko went still. His mask was painted in green, red, and black, and it had the look of some kind of cat—a tiger or a panther or something of that sort. I could not see anything about the rest of him; he was cloaked in full black.</p><p>"...What are you doing here?" he asked again after a long, guilty pause. I paused myself. Then I lowered my hood and gave him a hard look.</p><p>"I'm here to help Hokage-sama," I told him. "I have vital information about the invader."</p><p>Akihiko's head snapped up. "How do you know about that?" he demanded incredulously. Then he looked at me again before asking, "You're going to help Hokage-sama? You're only a chuunin."</p><p>"Try and stop me," I replied fiercely to his doubt. "Call the guard, then. If you think I'm enough of a fool to come to a place like this without realizing that I'm just a chuunin, then do it."</p><p>If truth be told I did not like my chances in a fight against Akihiko Namikaze. I wouldn't have liked the odds overmuch even back on Team 11. And now, in close quarters without any backup and without making any noise? Everything was stacked against me. But if a fight was what it would come down to, I was willing. He was bound to have learned more and gotten even better in ANBU, but much time had passed and I had grown in unexpected ways myself. It didn't matter that he was in the Special Forces. It wouldn't be my first ride against an ANBU, anyway.</p><p>Akihiko seemed taken aback by my ferocity. I felt my hands curl into loose fists as he stared at me. I had silencing seals in my sleeve. If he made to shout I would stop him.</p><p>"...Hokage-sama is in danger?" he asked uncertainly.</p><p>"Yes," I replied. "When I spoke to him about it Jiraiya-sama agreed. Hokage-sama's plan to fight alone is too reckless. And maybe we're just underestimating him, and maybe I'm needlessly interfering. But the alternative is untenable. A future without the Yondaime is too much of a risk."</p><p>"A future without the Yondaime?" Akihiko paused again at these foreboding words. "The situation's that dire?"</p><p>I set my mouth into a thin line. If only he knew. "Yes."</p><p>Another long moment passed. We continued to stand at odds and I wondered what would happen if another patrol came through. Before I could pursue that thought much further, however, Akihiko spoke.</p><p>"If you're here with Jiraiya-sama's authorization," he asked slowly, "why weren't we told?"</p><p>I furrowed my eyebrows at him. Then I understood his misapprehension and seized it with all my might.</p><p>"He won't have told you," I said aloofly, as though Jiraiya really had dispatched me to back up his stubborn student and had warned me no one else could know. "I expect Hokage-sama wouldn't take kindly to it. If you all knew I was coming he would've stopped me for sure."</p><p>That much was all true. Of course Jiraiya wouldn't have told anyone to expect me; we never agreed to implement any such intervention as this. And it went without saying Minato would stop me. He'd locked me out of the loop months ago.</p><p>"But why you?" Akihiko stared at my vest. He scanned me as if looking for identifiers of a Special unit, but of course he found none.</p><p>"I'm the only one who knows the full story," I informed. And that much was also true. "And everyone else who has details has a full plate."</p><p>Akihiko continued to stare. But he wasn't moving to arrest me, I noted, and I decided that if I were going to push this I might as well take it all the way to the wall. Without saying anything further I walked past him and opened the door to Rin's room.</p><p>The curtain was drawn but I could hear the dull drone of the stasis seal. It was still humming its sad sharp note, just as it had been since Minato first activated it, and I knew without a doubt that Rin was here. I took a deep breath to steel myself as I stepped forward.</p><p>A bed holding a figure so stiff and bloody should have been soaked right through. But Rin was frozen in time and the hole in her chest had ceased to leak. Though the blood was still there she had been suspended in that moment before death; it would not be free to flow until someone took her out of that moment.</p><p>I heard a sharp intake of breath beside me. Akihiko, who had followed and shut the door behind us without speaking, turned to me.</p><p>"I didn't know—" he began, stopped, and then began again, "—I didn't know we were guarding a body. I guess—someone must be coming to steal her corpse—?"</p><p>"She's not dead," I replied sharply. "That's the reason why we have any hope at all in this." Then I shook my head and moved forward again. "Come on. How well can you hide?"</p><p>Though I could not see his face I suspect Akihiko gave me quite a look. "I know the basics," he said with a familiar sort of sarcasm. My heart suddenly heaved. Yoshiya, I thought, used to snark at us just like that.</p><p>"Good, then," I muttered as I forced the emotion back down into my throat. I crouched by the wall and applied a Strings of Fate seal to the baseboard. There it would be low enough to go unseen, but not too low to trip someone if I activated it. I don't know why in particular I felt compelled to do it, but it felt expedient all the same. Then I promptly went to the bed, dropped to my knees, and crawled under. A beat passed before Akihiko shimmied in beside me.</p><p>"What now?" he asked.</p><p>"Now we wait," I replied as I took another steadying breath. "Or I'll wait. And you'll wait with me?"</p><p>My former teammate was silent and inscrutable. The eyes of his mask were empty and dark.</p><p>"My mission is to guard this hall until the end of the evening shift," he said eventually. "And I've uncovered information that indicates there will be an intruder in this room. So this is the optimal position to complete my mission."</p><p>I couldn't help the half-laugh that escaped me. I wondered just how much trouble Akihiko would be in when the night was over. And not just him, I amended to myself. He and I both.</p><p>I put my head down on my forearm. Though it was hardly the moment, something about that thought made me want to smile.</p><hr/><p>The room was screaming.</p><p>No, that was not it—it was not the room itself, but everyone in it. Akihiko shouting my name, Minato roaring Obito's, Obito yelling about Rin. Me shrieking back, fingers still tearing at the folds of his sleeve, feet still scrabbling for purchase against the wall, arms still struggling against the limb pinning me five inches off the floor. His fist was iron against my chest. The fabric of my collar was pulled taut and the seams of my garment, sewn sturdy, had begun to dig into the flesh under my arms rather than tear.</p><p>"You know it!" I cried at the mask. "She was ready to die for this village and you want to destroy it? You love her with your words but you lie with your actions!"</p><p>"You know nothing!" Obito howled back. "Don't talk as if you understand! It's because I loved her that I'm doing this!"</p><p>The room had been thrown into disarray after the initial struggle; the table had been overturned when Akihiko had kicked Obito in the side and a fat splatter of Minato's blood was pooling beside it. With the void box seal activated and negating all space-time ninjutsu I'd been unable to reseal my wires, so the tangle of those strings strewn all about the place framed the chaos with garlands of silvery thread.</p><p>Obito snarled and leaned up against me. The bite of his knife was already a prick of fire on my neck. Minato surged forward, arm still dripping, and Akihiko had drawn his ninjato. There was more screaming.</p><p>"Not dead—"</p><p>"—not involved—"</p><p>"—a liar!"</p><p>"Get <em>away</em>!"</p><p>And then, finally, abrupt silence. I saw the red of blood on the white of tile as I soared across the room. Minato's face froze in blank terror as I was flung away; Akihiko dove at Obito with bellowing fury. Then I hit the ground, slid, and crashed into the opposite wall with my back against the wood and my hands pressed against my throat.</p><p>"Suzu!" Minato's voice cracked with breathless horror. Before a second had passed he was kneeling next to me and turning me over with his uninjured hand. I began to cough violently.</p><p>"Let me see it," my brother demanded. His fingers closed on my shoulder in a death grip. Obliging, I slowly removed my shaking hands. Minato's eyes were white with fear as they came away smeared with gore.</p><p>For a moment I thought that it was all over. I thought my throat had been slit and that I had finally come to my last hour. But then I noticed that though there was blood it wasn't gushing, and that though I was gasping like a fish out of water I was still taking in air.</p><p>"It's not deep," I panted with realization. "It's only a scratch. I can breathe, the artery isn't severed, it's fine!"</p><p>I struggled into a sitting position and hastily swiped my sleeve against my skin. The cloth came away with an ugly stain but it cleared up the blood that was obscuring the cut across my skin—long, it seemed, but shallow. For a long moment Minato, with his hand still on my shoulder, could only sit and stare as it oozed gently. Then his arm fell to his side and he let out a long, long breath.</p><p>For a few seconds we sat stuck in those poses. I stared up at him with my limbs splayed across the floor and my shoulders sliding down the wall. He stared down at me in deathly silence. And then his lips parted.</p><p>"Never," he uttered in a voice like ice, "do that again."</p><hr/><p>A handful of seconds later the door slammed open to admit another cloaked figure. He caught sight of Akihiko viciously trading blows with Obito and sprang forward as if he had been conceived by lightning. In another second he and my former teammate both had one of Obito's arms each; they shoved him bodily into the ground, where Akihiko jammed his knee into Obito's kidney to stun him. The older ANBU withdrew a paper seal from his sleeve and slapped it with great force onto the back of our invader's head. Obito fell into immediate unconsciousness.</p><p>"Shit!" Akihiko exclaimed breathlessly. He pitched forward, rolled off of Obito, and managed to pull himself half-upright. Then he splayed his fingers across the front of his vest, which was now exposed by the tear in his cloak. The armor sported a magnificent slash from hip to sternum. The older ANBU looked at Akihiko intently.</p><p>"Are you injured?" he asked. The muted cadence of this fellow was vaguely familiar to me; the sound of his voice brought my mind to scents of dry air and dusty heat. Susumu, I concluded in a daze.</p><p>"No, sir," Akihiko panted in reply. He looked at Obito, sprawled on his face on the floor, and then at me, sprawled on my back by the wall. Then he ran his fingers across the gouge in his armor. In hindsight he was quite lucky Obito had only had a kunai. It would have been a hideous injury otherwise.</p><p>"Good," Susumu said. Then he turned away, seized Akihiko's arm, and began grilling him for a report in a low voice.</p><p>I would have been tempted to listen in—at this point in my life eavesdropping was becoming second nature—but I was distracted as yet another new figure appeared in the doorway. Jiraiya's eyes flew across the room and took in the disorder of it all before landing on Minato, whose sleeve was now quite crimson indeed.</p><p>"Holy shit, Minato!" said Jiraiya as he saw the laceration. It was a deep thing, deep enough that it would be a problem if he didn't get it sealed soon, and in fact I wondered if his brachial artery had not been injured. Then, of course, Jiraiya saw me and did a double take. "Suzu? What the hell are you doing here?"</p><p>At this Akihiko turned his head. I couldn't see his face but I could certainly see his realization, which was nearly instantaneous: Jiraiya had never authorized me to come here. I wondered how my friend would finish his report now.</p><p>"I sneaked in," I croaked in explanation. "He needed… needed backup."</p><p>Minato's hands were white-knuckled fists on his knees. He dropped his eyes to the floor and gritted his teeth. That, I noted, was not an emotion I often saw on him: desperate frustration, colored with profound self-disappointment. He was usually so prepared and always so successful in everything he did that there never was much opportunity to see him make that face.</p><p>"You let your guard down, Minato," Jiraiya concluded after he had knelt in front of his student and examined, in a surprisingly teacherly way, the wound. He withdrew a roll of bandages and made a tight binding to slow the blood loss. "You underestimated your opponent. I warned you not to go alone… you're lucky she decided to come anyway."</p><p>More lucky, I thought as I cast my eyes towards my friend, that Akihiko had decided to come. Then I winced as Susumu brought a fist down on my friend's head. Akihiko's shoulders hunched, but evidently Susumu had not put much power into the strike; a moment later his teacher sighed and slapped him lightly on the back. Well, I considered, even if he had fallen for my tricks, he had also helped save the Hokage's life. There was only so much one could ask of an apprentice ANBU.</p><p>"You did good, kid—" Jiraiya turned to look at me. Then he faltered when his gaze locked onto my bloodied throat. I quickly wiped it again to show him the superficiality of it.</p><p>"You did good, kid," he said once more as he let out a breath. "You are a waste in the general platoons. You should be a tokujou for getting past all the security we put up in this place."</p><p>This made me chuckle weakly and I looked at Akihiko again. It wasn't in the least bit true. I had been caught in the end, after all.</p><p>Akihiko, as if sensing my gaze, turned to look at me. He looked away again almost immediately, though, and something about that abruptly made my heart crack. For a moment had it felt like we'd returned to the old days, and just like when we'd been on Team 11, we'd accomplished something great together. We'd only had the opportunity because of Minato's anti-space-time ninjutsu seal, of course, and Susumu had been the one to really incapacitate Obito in the end, but we'd still managed to help take down an extremely dangerous enemy. I deflated.</p><p>"Maybe we should promote you." Jiraiya saw my sudden misery and grinned facetiously to cheer me up. "Eh, Minato? I'd say she deserves a reward for helping save your ass, don't you think?"</p><p>Minato slowly looked up. The jab, I perceived with sudden acuity, seemed to hit a little too close to home, and a flicker of hurt passed from his eyes before being covered with cold, flinty fury. Jiraiya seemed to sense his joke was of ill timing and was taken aback.</p><p>"Sorry, kid," the Toad Sage immediately apologized. "That wasn't funny. I didn't mean—"</p><p>But Minato cut him off, and he said the last thing I'd expected him to say that night.</p><p>"I think," he announced, frigid and curt, "she deserves a court-martial."</p><hr/><p>The charge served to me was one of absence without leave. A mercy, one had to admit, when other such ominous crimes as insubordination—and the quiet whisper of <em>treason</em> that always accompanied it—could have just as well been laid at my feet. But the resulting punishment, well…</p><p>"A mission ban," Auntie repeated as I set down the scroll. It was thin, sealed with red cloth, and implicitly insulting. A punishment as severe as a disciplinary mission ban—a full removal from the active forces and, as a consequence, all income—would normally be handed down to its recipient in person. "I… Minato decided this? He actually gave you a disciplinary ban?"</p><p>"He did," I confirmed. And a cold fury of my own settled in my heart then, because Minato—who grew up in the House himself and knew how our wages supported the lives of everyone in it—had taken my work from me anyway. Any other manner of punishment could have sufficed—demotion, confinement, extra duties or additional labor… but he chose the one thing that hurt not just me, but my entire family. <em>His</em> family, too. Or did this simply mean he no longer considered us House people his family? The fire lit itself anew.</p><p>"We'll make do, Suzu," Auntie raced to assure me. "It's all right. The clan will make up the lack if we need it."</p><p>Her words did not appease me. Stress had come over my foster mother and covered her like a leaden veil in the days since the attack had passed. The plan's success had assured that business could continue as usual in the village without anyone the wiser, but the problem now was that her husband had gone missing. Yes, Uncle Souhei had vanished—but not during the mission, because when she had raced to find him with the fear of <em>suicide mission</em> still glinting in her eyes she'd found that he'd checked in and out from his post without any fanfare whatsoever. He simply hadn't returned home after being dismissed. After hearing this I felt wretched for compounding her troubles; that, in turn, made me all the more furious.</p><p>And that was the start of my suspension. The first month flamed with rage, but also with betrayal. The question of why was ever-burning. I could accept being disciplined for abandoning the post that had been assigned to me; Konoha was a military organization and it had a chain of command that need to be maintained. But why this punishment? Why a punishment that made our loved ones suffer? Had the House really fallen out of his regard after all? After all the years he had lived with us had he really turned away just like that? Did we mean so little to him that he would discard us the moment he rose to power? That didn't seem like something characteristic of Minato at all.</p><p>Was it spite, then? Was it his revenge for the fact that I withheld my foreknowledge and put his life, wife, child, and village at risk? I never believed for a moment he had forgiven me as easily as he'd pretended to, but if we were actually in the throes of a fight right now it seemed insane to me that he would drag the House into it. There were children as little as Haruka here depending on the House to survive. There was no reason or honor at all in dragging them into a grudge between two people.</p><p>It was a keen pain to realize that my attempt to help—and in it my attempt to atone—had been rejected. I knew, after all, that I had been wrong. I knew I should have told him sooner and I knew I should have done something before things had come to the point they had at all; I had told Jiraiya as much. But if even this was not enough to begin making amends—if I would not even be allowed to try—well, then what was there to do? And what was this? A declaration that I would remain unforgiven? That he'd wield his authority over me without restraint? That he was big, I was small, and that I could not even hope to be reconciled with him?</p><p>The second month was better, but worse, too. Uncle Souhei returned and began to help around the House again, so at least we no longer were operating under the anticipated burden of taking missing person request to the clan head. But he was avoidant in the extreme. He hardly spoke at all when spoken to and his every free moment was spent away from us. He was trying, it seemed, to live with us without looking at us. Auntie's respite bled into a different kind of stress shortly.</p><p>Unable to take missions, I found little satisfaction in training and instead found myself beginning to devote all of my energy to the domestic arts. I spent hours upon hours cleaning, cooking, and sewing with Auntie. I began to wake up early in the morning to help make lunches for my little cousins, and after breakfast I walked them to the Academy. Around month three I began working at Itsuki-sensei's fruit shop after dropping them off, and then one day in month four, a few moments after Itsuki-sensei had smiled and handed me my weeks' wages, I realized with a start that the decision I'd been unable to make had, somewhere along the line, been made.</p><p>I wasn't taking missions. I wasn't training. I was looking after my family and earning money at a fruit store. I'd retired just like that.</p><p>As a chilly February rain began to fall I found myself dragging in the sale banner in a rush to avoid getting wet. Then I sat down on my stool, surrounded on all sides by strawberries, persimmons, and winter oranges. All at once I was living the life I'd secretly been dreaming of living. No violence, no blood, no politics.</p><p>Just life.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. The Black Letter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Miss Misuzu!"</p><p>Startled, I looked up from my seat on the swing and saw none other than Gai Maito. He was standing nearby with a large grin on his face, and though he wasn't holding a bouquet of hideous orange and purple flowers this time, he did have an impressive fistful of daisies and clovers behind his back.</p><p>I blinked for a moment before finding that a small smile had begun to form on my face without my realizing. It had been a while since I'd last seen Gai. A lot had happened since then.</p><p>"Misuzu-san, it's a pleasure to see you," he greeted eagerly.</p><p>"Hello, Gai-san," I replied warmly. "It's a pleasure to see you, too."</p><p>Normally at this time of day I'd be down in the market district helping Itsuki-sensei, but today he had closed the shop to take his ailing aunt to the doctor. Apparently after his parents had died she'd taken great care of him.</p><p>"Misuzu-san, I was wondering—" Gai began. Then he hesitated a bit and I found myself growing wary. It had become obvious to most of the Academy staff that I was no longer working as a ninja—I'd stopped wearing my uniform and springy sundresses were hardly training appropriate—so of course the rumors were flying thick and fast. I had no idea what to expect from Gai, who had initially become interested in me while I'd been doing demeanor training for I&amp;E, but if he was anywhere onboard with the others it wasn't going to be pleasant.</p><p>But Gai, as always, surprised me again. He took a deep breath, put on a face of pure determination, and held out his wildflowers.</p><p>"Misuzu-san, you are as lovely as a lily on the sweetest of summer mornings. Will you accompany me on a date?" he asked.</p><p>I had the presence of mind not to let my jaw drop, but I did spend a good long minute staring dumbfounded. From the look of him he hadn't planned on seeing me today; his proffered flowers were clearly handpicked from the nearby field and his clothes were already grubby with detritus from morning training. But here he was again, making his effort.</p><p>I paused, considering. Then I held out my hands to accept the bouquet. I took a daisy and tucked it behind my ear.</p><p>"I'd be delighted, Gai-san," I told him, and his face lit up like a firework. "Would you like to eat lunch with me?"</p><p>I held up my bento. I'd originally come to the Academy to catch my younger cousins and eat with them during their recess, but I hadn't told them I was coming so it wouldn't be a problem if I changed my plans and went elsewhere.</p><p>"Please, by all means!" Gai agreed enthusiastically. A few minutes later found us relocated to a nearby park and seated under the shade of a great cherry tree. The flowers had begun to scatter by now, but even though the canopy was more green than pink the sunlight was beautiful as it filtered through the leaves and cast bright spots on a ground carpeted in petals. Gai, who had dashed off briefly towards the market, returned in mere minutes with a store-bought lunch box and a picnic blanket.</p><p>We settled down and began our lunch. Gai listened attentively as I replied to his query after my family's health, and he sat with sincere interest as I spoke at a length about my cousins and my aunt. In turn I asked him about his recent affairs, and he proudly declared to me that he had been promoted from a volunteer taijutsu tutor into a proper Academy instructor, on roster as actual staff for a full two rotations. I was mildly shocked to hear this; in my mind Academy instructors were all to a member full-grown ninja—but that, of course, meant only that at some point of my Academy life I had conflated "shinobi" with "adult." I suppose it made sense; I had been young in the Academy as any student, and even though right now Gai was only fourteen, fourteen was quite a lot of years to, say, a six-year-old.</p><p>Upon reflection it made copious amounts of sense that Gai, who would go on to become a splendid jounin instructor, was spending the middling years of his career as an Academy teacher. It would be here that he honed both his teaching ability and his expertise in his special field, taijutsu. Furthermore, as a specific subject instructor rather than a general homeroom teacher, he still had the flexibility to schedule leave and serve as a substitute member on missions with vacant spots. So the benefits of his position were twofold: not only was he accumulating great goodwill and credibility as a true bearer of the Will of Fire, he was learning specialized skills without totally removing himself from general fieldwork. Under the new promotion criteria—which Minato had set to thoroughly reforming within his first few months as Hokage—this would be essential to promote into the office of a jounin. Skills acquisition alone would pigeonhole him into a tokujou promotion, but the experience of a General Forces mission load would round out his profile, thus allowing him to claim the more generalist jounin status.</p><p>This struck me as a very good and wonderful thing. I had no doubt at all that all students who passed under Gai's guidance would flourish both in their taijutsu and as Konoha-nin on the whole. He was an incredibly wholesome individual. And good for him: the world needed more of his earnest, unjaded positivity in it.</p><p>After lunch ended I began to weave my gifted flowers into crowns. Gai was positively glowing when I made us a pair of matching garlands, and he was completely unabashed to wear it. Some passersby whispered and pointed to see a girl wearing matching daisy wreaths with the infamous Gai Maito, but I couldn't even bring myself to care. Right now, exiled from all good regard by my brother on one side and the folk of the Academy on the other, I was glad enough to count him among my friends. Gai, I found myself thinking a touch bitterly, was clearly too good to betray me like they had.</p><p>We spent nearly thirty more minutes chatting, and Gai thanked me profusely for my time when we both finally agreed that it was time to part ways for the day. I thanked him for his, and when he suggested we go out again sometime I couldn't find it in me to refuse. If truth be told I had no kind of romantic interest in Gai, and perhaps it was cruel to string him along by agreeing to meet with him again; but Gai, I had concluded, was a wonderful person. I liked his company. He was quirky, but he was kind and he had all the charity and honor a person could want in a companion, romantic or no.</p><p>But then again, I considered as I gathered my lunchbox and began making my way home, even that might not put Gai off. And who knew? Perhaps he would win me over in time. He had enough goodness, and life was already wending its way down unexpected paths.</p><p>I stopped by Hisame-jii's stop to pick up the clothes I'd agreed to alter—working with Itsuki-sensei, while good, was not nearly enough to match a chuunin's income, so the clan seamster had been letting me help out with his sewing for a pittance or two—before arriving back at the House. Auntie was in the yard hanging laundry; I set my lunchbox and my basket of clothes down inside before hopping lightly down from the veranda to join her.</p><p>Auntie caught sight of me and smiled. We'd fallen into a very companionable routine since my suspension began and we chattered amiably as we finished the clotheslines together. When that was over, I suggested Auntie go take the time to meet with Sasa-obaa, the previous House caretaker. According to Auntie, Sasa had been an indispensable mentor in the early days, and Auntie had been wishing to visit her for a while now for advice—and with everything that was happening at the House lately, I thought guiltily, I couldn't blame her for seeking counsel.</p><p>Auntie's face brightened at my suggestion. Usually after this the kids would come home from the Academy and she'd be too busy minding them to leave the House, but since I wasn't working at Itsuki-sensei's today I could watch them in her place.</p><p>"Would you do that for me, Suzu?" Auntie asked hopefully.</p><p>"Of course," I replied. "I'll get started on dinner, too, if you're still out by then. Take your time."</p><p>"Thank you, Suzu." Auntie reached over and kissed me on the forehead. "If I'm not back in time have the others help you. I'll buy donuts from Auntie Akari on the way back."</p><hr/><p>The hour of dinner prep came and went without the return of my aunt, so I was in the kitchen peeling carrots when something very wrong pricked at my awareness. I paused in my work and listened carefully to the sounds of my cousins. They were gathered in the sitting room over their homework, but somehow their sound was incomplete, as if they were an orchestra missing a section. A moment later I realized the steady beat of Haruka's drum was missing. At first I thought she was out making mud pies again, but then I sharply turned my sense outdoors. In a moment I had abandoned the food altogether and was outside in the grass.</p><p>The first time Akihiko had tried this move he'd injured himself badly. He very rarely made mistakes, so that day had left an impression with me, and I was doubly sure to reinforce my ankle with chakra as I brought my heel down on the masked man's head. There was a loud crunch as his face slammed into his knee. The knife in his hand fell into the grass.</p><p>"What are you doing to my little sister?" I asked quietly. Haruka ran sobbing into my legs the second her captor's grip loosened. I pushed her behind me.</p><p>The stranger looked up. His nose was very badly broken and began to gush blood furiously, but all I could see was the sword on his back. In fact, that sword worried me very much; I had seen straight-bladed ninjatos like those on the backs of ANBU. Of course, ANBU weren't the only ones who carried ninjatos like that, and he wasn't in a uniform, but why would he be? He didn't need to be, and I was overwhelmed with a clear sense that this was not a man I could beat. Alone and properly equipped, maybe I'd have a solid chance, but unarmed in a sundress with Haruka hanging from the hem of my skirt in hysteric tears?</p><p>The assassin's eyes widened the moment he realized what was about to happen. With one hand still clutching his nose, he lunged, but it was too late for that.</p><p>"Ojisan!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. Then I pulled Haruka up into my arms and shot across the yard in a shunshin, heart racing. The assassin's blade missed us by mere inches.</p><p>My uncle seemed to fall out of the sky, though in reality he'd probably only jumped from the second floor. I ducked again as the masked shinobi slashed at us, whirling and sliding my foot back to prepare for a strike, but Uncle Souhei was slugging the man across the yard before I had a chance to lift my leg. Then he grabbed the assassin's extended wrist, disarmed him, and yanked with merciless force. The masked ninja let out a choking noise as his shoulder dislocated.</p><p>"Who are you?" Uncle demanded frigidly as he swung around, threw the man to the ground, and jammed his foot into the attacker's back. As he did this he jerked his chin silently towards the house, and I scrambled onto the engawa with Haruka in tow before flying into the sitting room and grabbing the rest of the children. They were stiff, silent, and they followed my urgent gestures to hide in the secret alcove behind the bookshelf with preternatural speed.</p><p>"Who are you?" Uncle repeated, shifting so the force of his weight was on his forward foot. "Identify yourself. Now."</p><p>The pinned assassin snarled something invective. Uncle's lip curled.</p><p>"I don't think you understand the situation you're in," Uncle commented with dark amusement. "But if you keep that up you will. Now—<em>talk.</em>"</p><p>The kids gripped at my skirt as I tucked the last of them into their hiding place before slowly sliding back out to assess the situation. Then I winced, because the intruder said something else and Uncle Souhei responded by taking the man's ring finger and snapping it. There was a sharp gasp.</p><p>For a moment I was taken out of the moment and back in time to the battlefield, to the hostile stare of enemy ninja, to fierce determination and inescapable bloodshed, and abruptly, I was cold. Uncle Souhei leaned forward as he spoke again, cool in his quiet violence, and Haruka's attacker lowered his gory nose towards the grass. I stared at it with a heavy swallow, because that had been me—I'd done that—I'd done it cleanly, well, without hesitating, without error, because I knew I'd had to.</p><p>But the sound of Haruka's life beating behind me was big and bright. And as I listened to that pulse I realized it had been no crime nor sin to break that nose, not to defend life. Not to defend good things.</p><p>Then suddenly I found myself leaping across the sitting room and out toward the yard. Uncle Souhei turned almost in unison because he'd heard it too: the hidden sound of another ninja's chakra sliding into movement, aiming for his eye. I inhaled sharply as my foot contacted the second attacker's armor—without protective padding I felt every bone in my bare foot shift—but the kick was enough to knock the man off course and send him flying into the trees at the edge of the yard. I landed with a stagger.</p><p>"Suzu!" My uncle's voice came sharply and offered just enough warning for me to instinctively drop to the ground. A blade sailed over my head, alarmingly silent, and I realized with a jolt that the one hidden attacker had really been two. There was a whole trio of masked assassins converging upon our garden.</p><p>"Uncle!" I cried back, feeling suddenly terrified, as I saw Broken Nose's eyes flash. Uncle's feet immediately left the ground. He was just in time to leap over the slash of a sword meant to cut off his ankles.</p><p>"Move!" Uncle Souhei barked at me. I dove out of the way as his high jump brought him crashing down on the third assailant's head. With quick and merciless movements, Uncle rammed his elbow into the man's throat and then brought the rest of his body around for a blisteringly fast roundhouse kick, the kind from the ninth tier of Hurricane Gale that not even Akihiko had been good enough to do. The masked man dropped, katana and all, and his neck was certainly broken as he collapsed into the grass.</p><p>"Uncle!" I shrieked again as an arm seized my shoulder. I kicked at my attacker while reaching instinctively for the dagger I did not have strapped to my thigh, and I let out a frustrated yell.</p><p>Uncle Souhei was a tide of fury as he surged forward. "Unhand my daughter!" he bellowed, advancing.</p><p>And then there was yet another chime of chakra, different again from that of the party in the yard's. I let out a noise of disbelief. Were there even more?</p><p>But then Reiko Namikaze appeared with a flying kick of her own, eyes sharp and face shadowed. She had a plastic bag dangling from her wrist—Auntie Akari's donuts, no doubt—as she landed on one leg. Her heeled sandal sank firmly into the soil beneath us, and she stamped lightly to free her foot.</p><p>"Souhei?" she asked with the cutting, laser-like authority that only commanders in the field had mastered. Her husband came to a stop at her eight o' clock position, just behind and to her left.</p><p>"From the letter, no doubt," my uncle replied as he produced an ominously black scroll. It was not unlike to the kind used to store bodies, and when I saw it I found my mind flying all the way back to the day Kakashi and I had left for Earth Country for the Sakuya mission. Then I remembered: my aunt and uncle, sitting together at the table as I came down the stairs, holding a strategy meeting with that black scroll laid out between them.</p><p>"Someone's been sending death threats?" I gasped, reeling, as I ran forward. My uncle did not protest as I grabbed it from his fingers.</p><p>"Ever since Minato became Hokage," Auntie replied as she eyed the two remaining invaders critically. Broken Nose was stumbling, but still on his feet, and the one that I'd originally kicked—the one who had been aiming at Uncle with a bow—sank into a deeper stance. "Suzu, take that scroll and run to the Uchiha, please. Head to the police headquarters and have them summon the MP. If you tell them it's about the Namikaze affair, they'll know."</p><p>Evidently Bow and Broken Nose were not pleased to hear this suggestion, and as soon as she said it I found myself standing in crosshairs. Auntie and Uncle immediately moved to intercept, so I wasted no time in flipping away with the trust that my parents would cover my departure.</p><p>I sprinted across rooftops all the way across the village until I arrived in the Uchiha compound. Once in another world this place had been destroyed by the Nine-tails and rebuilt on the outskirts of the village, but the original was located in the heart of Konoha beside the sprawling Akimichi clan grounds. I dropped into the road in front of the police headquarters, gasping and feeling a horrid stabbing pain in my injured foot.</p><p>The two sentries standing outside the building started at my sudden appearance, which made me realize I'd been unconsciously cloaking the whole entire time. But when they took in my appearance and saw that I was barefoot in a gravel street, hair disheveled and pleated skirt in disarray, they seemed to conclude I was not a threat and quickly strode forward to meet me instead.</p><p>"Please," I gasped, hunching over and bracing one arm on my knee, "please send a patrol. It's the Namikaze affair." I thrust out the black scroll with my other arm.</p><p>The guard on the left took it and went inside; the man on the right squatted in front of me and asked if I was hurt. He was a young-looking man who might have been Itsuki-sensei's age, and though his countenance was more stern than kindly, I could see genuine concern in his eyes as he asked. I offered a weak smile and denied that it was anything major.</p><p>A second later there was a large commotion. The guard was too professional to startle but he did stand up and turn with swift alarm. The doors burst open and five uniformed police officers streamed into the street.</p><p>"What has happened?" the man in charge turned, saw a blond in a sea of black-haired clansfolk, and addressed me.</p><p>"Three men, they're attacking the clan foster home," I reported breathlessly. "When I left the children were all safe, but the caretakers are still fighting. My uncle—he killed one—but there are still two. The caretakers stopped them so I could leave and get help."</p><p>Even with a badly sprained foot I was still fast enough to lead the patrol back to the Namikaze compound, so I ran in front while the Uchiha followed behind me. They spoke with low voices to one another about tactics—who would go to fight the intruders, who would confirm the safety of the children and stand guard, who would secure the perimeter to prevent any more attackers from approaching—but when we arrived, well…</p><p>My cousins were all clustered by the kitchen window, staring out into the yard, while Auntie and Uncle bickered over the form of Broken Nose, who had been hogtied. Bow was dead in the grass by the trees.</p><p>"—overkill," Auntie was arguing. "We could have apprehended both of them."</p><p>"Did we really have the leisure to be taking that risk?" Uncle objected. "The children were right there!"</p><p>"And they were out here! With the two of us we could have easily—"</p><p>"This one's still alive—!"</p><p>"Only because I—!"</p><p>"Suzu-nee," Kouji said when he saw me through the other window. The Uchiha behind me were staring blankly at the scene.</p><p>"What happened?" I inquired as I examined Broken Nose's profile from afar. The cloth mask he had been using to conceal his identity had been ripped off by the House guardians, leaving his face plain for the world to see.</p><p>"Auntie said save the last one at least so they could get information," Masami reported. "She wanted the other one, too, but Uncle accidentally killed him."</p><p>There was rather more to that story, I thought as I looked over the yard. Broken Nose's forehead was pouring blood and the deceased Bow was bleeding from his right eye.</p><p>I ran up to my foster parents as the Uchiha shook themselves out of their stupor and began swarming over the scene. Their calling and shouting brought the gazes of our neighbors, but Auntie and Uncle both turned to me with unaffected gazes. Neither of them looked particularly ruffled, though some hair had come loose from Auntie's ponytail, and Uncle—</p><p>Uncle, I realized with a start, had lost his glasses. His clothes were totally untouched, but he looked strangely naked without them. He regarded my shocked gaze with a sour look.</p><p>"What? I paid him back for it," he grumbled petulantly.</p><p>"You killed him for that?" I asked, disturbed by the pettiness with which a life could be taken. The remains of my uncle's glasses were clutched in his hand; the right lens was cut clean in two.</p><p>"No. Killing him really was an accident," Uncle sighed then. "It's been a long time since I was in the field. I only meant to say—" Uncle pursed his lips before shrugging. "An eye for an eye. He went for mine, so I took his. It was the maneuver that happened after that went awry."</p><p>The Uchiha came over then and interrupted any further questions I might have had. But it was just as well, because when Uncle dropped the remains of his glasses in my hands and turned away to speak with them, I found suspicion beginning to unfurl in my mind; and as I ducked into the house, I held the unbroken lens up to my eye and found that it was made of perfectly plain glass.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Souhei's Secret (1)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Previously: Gai and Suzu have a picnic; the House receives hostile visitors; Suzu suspects something more about her uncle.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Dear Souhei,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hideaki passed me your letter. I have been following the matter of the captured assassin on his behalf.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Things are, I think, as you suspected. The Uchiha were not allowed to hold on to the assassin for long; though it would be normal procedure to have the military police interrogate him before escalating the investigation, your attacker was immediately transferred into the custody of the Special Forces. He did not come our way—he was assigned to the care of the Second Division—but he spent very little time with the Divisions regardless; the Subcommander handed the case over to Root on the same day. The man is probably already dead. They spare no mercy for failures, and especially not their own.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The protocol override was done on special orders, ostensibly out of fear that the attack on the Namikaze clan was part of a larger threat to the reigning Hokage. The Hokage himself, however, was not informed of the situation at all; investigation indicates that the special order came instead from the council. Sarutobi-sama was engaged with the court of the daimyou on behalf of the village when the request to transfer went through for council approval, which suggests they were waiting for an opportunity to grant permission without Sarutobi-sama's knowing.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It seems to me that Shimura-sama is escalating his plans. I doubt that he intended to send actual assassins when the threats were first arrived; more likely he was attempting to bait the Yondaime into assigning a guard of some sort, which he would then add to his criticism campaign as partiality and an unfair use of village resources. As you know, those who wished for the appointment of Orochimaru of the Sannin have factionized, and their disapproval of Yondaime-sama's youth makes them more than disposed to attack him for any hint of sentimentality or immaturity. Knowing this, Shimura-sama has been looking to court their support by targeting your family.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>My guess would be he is retaliating for the recent restrictions to the promotion system. Shimura-sama has already declared his belief that other villages will take advantage if the Jounin Corps continues in its diminished state; he and Yondaime-sama have been clashing endlessly over it. As it stands, Shimura-sama is looking for ways to interrupt the momentum of Yondaime-sama's recent political victories.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I strongly recommend you proceed with caution. You may wish to inform Yondaime-sama of these happenings, but if you do, you must move with the utmost discretion. You certainly know by now that your family is under surveillance. If you move to inform the Hokage Shimura-sama will undoubtedly intervene, and he will be all the more cunning for last week's failure. Please weigh the risks carefully and do not underestimate him. He is a powerful adversary; even with the protection of the ANBU Commander, Hideaki and I must be cautious of his reach.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We all will be in dire straits if Shimura-sama were to learn of our association. It is bad enough he knows of our respective ties to Kyouya; if he links us as a group, heaven knows what chaos could follow. As it is, the information in this letter could not have been obtained without an ear inside the Special Forces. If Yondaime-sama comes out with an accusation and Shimura-sama learns it originated with you, it will only be a matter of time before he puts two and two together, and that cannot be allowed to happen. I do not wish for a second tragedy to occur.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I am praying for your safety. Be very careful with Danzou Shimura, Souhei. Do not hesitate to contact us again if you need help.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kindest regards,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Isana</em>
</p><hr/><p>My mind whirled as I lowered the letter. There was too much to process. Minato—Danzou—contacts within ANBU, Root surveillance—and the politics—</p><p>Usually I was kept abreast of village politics by my association with the Intelligence Division, but ever since my suspension I had lost all ability to pass through to I&amp;E. I still technically had my Intel apprentice clearance, but even when I had still been a functioning member of the general platoons the pretense had been quite thin; in my current situation there was simply no chance.</p><p>So much had happened. I knew Minato had been enacting new reforms, but I never suspected it would lead to the formation of factions—and factions made of Orochimaru supporters, no less. And a burgeoning alliance of the council majority with an anti-Yondaime conspiracy… to think that all of this had begun so early on into Minato's tenure. In another world I suppose he had died before any of this had come to be.</p><p>But the most unbelievable thing about the letter, I thought with a trembling swallow, was not all that. It was shocking, but not as shocking as this. Even though I had suspected something strange about my uncle, it hadn't ever been this.</p><p>I carefully refolded the missive and returned it to its exact place on Uncle's desk. But I had a terrible urge to keep it and stare for longer, consequences be damned; it had been a whole imagined lifetime since I'd last seen written English.</p><hr/><p>Many things about Souhei Namikaze began to make sense when considering that he, too, had memories of Earth. I could hardly name all the tells that came to mind now that I knew. His sheaf of papers with its strange cipher, his story about a traitor who had withheld information, his inexplicable distance, his comments about the chakra control of <em>people like us…</em> it was clear now. The cipher had not been a cipher; it had only been English. He was the traitor living unpunished in the village with his family. He had known that Obito would come for the Kyuubi, and because he knew the Namikazes did not exist in <em>Naruto</em>, he had been waiting for the Nine-tails to come out and kill us all. That was why he was always drawing away. That was why he had apologized for failing me as a father: he had been waiting for us all to die.</p><p>He had known everything, all of it, just like me. And he'd told no one and done nothing. He'd watched everything play out according to canon. He'd looked away and never turned his head back—just as I tried to do, too.</p><p>"The other person had glasses, didn't he?" I asked the next day on the back porch. "That's why you wear them, too, even if you don't need them."</p><p>I was, in my own way, much the same. The girl from Earth had been an avid seamstress. No matter how incongruous I knew a sewing shinobi to be, I felt incomplete without having those same needles and threads in my life. Even if we weren't the same person we still had that connection, and it had felt shockingly wrong not to acknowledge it.</p><p>Uncle Souhei froze. Actually froze, in a way that I had never seen him freeze before: in his mind and his body and his spirit, the very heart of him stood still. Then he turned to look at me with deep horror in his eye.</p><p>"Why do you…" he began in a halting whisper. "How…?"</p><p>"I went through your desk while I was cleaning," I replied. "You didn't hide the letter well."</p><p>For a brief moment his look of shock shifted into horrified rage. But it was overtaken by soul-crushed dread before long. He looked away.</p><p>"How long have you known about me?" I asked quietly. Auntie and the Academy-aged kids had gone off to the park and we were alone at the moment, but Tenrou and Nodoka had been popping in and out all morning, and I didn't know if I would hear them coming back in time if I spoke too loudly.</p><p>Uncle Souhei's reply was to take his face and bury it in his hands. Without fake lenses to soften his features his eyes looked quite sharp. But now, I observed with a strange knot in my chest, he mostly looked broken. His back hunched and his shoulders sagged and the very air of him was suddenly bleeding with defeat.</p><p>"Years," he finally uttered through his fingers. "Since you were a child."</p><p>"Since I was a child?" I asked, softly displeased by the evasiveness of this answer. It could be argued that I was a child even now. Though fairly adult by ninja standards, thirteen was still far from full-grown.</p><p>"Since you came back from the front lines four years ago," Uncle bowed his head and acknowledged the failure of his deflection. "Since I introduced you to Hayato."</p><p>Something pinged in my mind at the guilt of this confession. Since he introduced me to Hayato-sensei? Why speak of Hayato-sensei here? He was a totally unrelated party. Hayato-sensei had nothing to do with <em>Naruto</em>; he had no knowledge of Earth or Plot. He was just a village psychologist; just a former teammate my uncle had happened to keep in touch with. Unless...</p><p>"He's like us, too," I concluded flatly. "You introduced us on purpose. You wanted to ask him about me."</p><p>A cringe. I reassessed the situation. Then I put a hand on my face, too.</p><p>"They're all like us," I whispered in realization. "That—Isana. And Hideaki and Kyouya. They know about the other world, too. There's a whole group of us?"</p><p>Uncle refused to meet my eye. I found myself seizing his sleeve.</p><p>"All this time," I said, "all this time, I wasn't alone. You knew. And you let me go through all of this by myself?"</p><p>"Not all of them are like us," Uncle Souhei replied weakly. "Isana's different—she's normal. And not all of them knew about <em>Naruto</em>, either. Only… only half of us."</p><p>"And you did <em>nothing?</em>" I felt my voice crack. "All these years and you didn't do a thing? You never told anyone about what was going to happen to us? About all the people who would die?"</p><p>He was silent. My fingers curled into fists.</p><p>"Jiraiya thought I was a foreign agent when I told him," I said. "He nearly killed me."</p><p>My uncle's forehead dropped to his knee. "So it was you after all," he muttered quietly to himself. "You're the reason why Minato and Kushina are still alive."</p><p>"Ojisan!" I cried, appalled.</p><p>"What?" he finally shouted back. "What about it? I didn't change anything. I told them not to change anything, either! They listened to me!"</p><p>"Why? Were you that concerned about protecting the canon?" I found my voice rising as well. "What are you going to do now? Are you going to break Obito out and correct the timeline? Kill Minato-nii to fix things yourself?"</p><p>"No!" He was suddenly on his feet, towering over me, and I scrambled to get up after him. "No, never! I never wanted any of them to die!'</p><p>"Your actions say otherwise!" I glared defiantly up into his face. "You—"</p><p>"Stop!" my uncle cut me off furiously. "Stop talking! As if I don't know everything you're going to say!"</p><p>This, I think, infuriated me more than anything else that day. More than the fact he had kept this secret, more than the fact that he hadn't done anything, more than the fact that he had left me to this all alone—</p><hr/><p>Tenrou and Nodoka were standing in the hallway with twin looks of shock when Uncle Souhei stormed past and threw himself through the sitting room window. That, I was quickly realizing, was his way in unpleasant situations—when things went wrong, he got gone. He never faced it. He would just stand up and leave.</p><p>"What happened?" Nodoka asked in a hush as I came over still trembling with anger. "What—"</p><p>"We had a fight," I managed to grind out. She and Tenrou exchanged wide-eyed looks.</p><p>"...That's surprising," Tenrou said. "You don't usually." He eyed me doubtfully.</p><p>None of the House children were of the type who picked fights frivolously. Not with our guardians, anyway, and especially not with Uncle Souhei, who was a master of the cold fury. Auntie, when crossed, got mad and got over it; but Uncle was fluent in the language of passive aggression, and his retaliation tended to be both drawn-out and scathing.</p><p>"What did he do?" Nodoka ventured cautiously. Her hair was a little more golden brown than the usual sunflower yellow, and at present it was quite mussed; had they come running when they heard the commotion from outside?</p><p>"Something I'd never thought he'd do," I uttered before I could help myself. "I never expected that of him."</p><p>My cousins' eyes grew concerned.</p><p>"That's really strange," Nodoka said softly. "Even though you're his favorite."</p><p>I grimaced.</p><p>"You can't deny it," Tenrou added. "Even when he's weird and distant he likes to talk to you. He's talked to you more than anyone since he came back."</p><p>"That just makes it worse," I replied, a little softer and a little less enraged now. My cousins exchanged glances again.</p><p>"...That's not wrong, either."</p><hr/><p>I left a note for Auntie and took off to Itsuki-sensei's. Itsuki-sensei, for his part, didn't bat an eye at my sudden appearance and offered up the usual guest room without so much as an inquisitive glance. Since it was still early in the afternoon, I put my bag away and then went down to help him mind the shop.</p><p>"It's like we can't stop betraying each other," I blurted out an hour or so later. Itsuki-sensei looked up from his place behind the counter with a curious look.</p><p>"We?" he queried.</p><p>"People," I said. "Just—people just can't stop betraying one another."</p><p>Now that I had said it aloud I realized how nonsensical this sudden outburst was, and I made a face. But something of my meaning seemed to reach my teacher; he regarded me soberly.</p><p>"I have been betrayed," he told me as he leaned forward on his arms. "And I have betrayed others, too."</p><p>My mind whirled with the faces of countless people. Uncle, Minato, Obito. Itsuki-sensei at the Missions Desk arguing for our lives. Itsuki-sensei in the bunker ignoring me scream. The boys from Iwagakure at the bottom of Death Valley—Akihiko saving my life, Akihiko shouting in my doorway—and Kazuto in the tunnel, hurling bitter despair at the brother he'd thrown down his tantou for, daring him to move on.</p><p>Betrayers every one of them, and yet…</p><p>"I know you loved us," I told my teacher. "You were our teacher. You never wanted us to come to any harm."</p><p>"That is true," he tilted his chin forward. "We should not have been sent on that mission. I did my best not to let it happen. But that's no large matter in final analysis. In the end my team shattered and I walked away without trying."</p><p>"But I don't resent you at all," I said, and I meant it. "I don't even really hold you responsible. I'm not angry with you like—like I'm angry with—with <em>them</em>."</p><p>This sent my teacher into a long silence. He did not ask who they were or what they had done to betray me, and I recalled with sudden clarity that the man before me had once been an ANBU touchstone. He was a confidant trained by the Special Forces. He knew how to listen around secrets.</p><p>"It may be a matter of time," he finally said. "As in enough time has passed since Tatsumi River that whatever anger you might've had has cooled."</p><p>Well, it could be, but I eyed him doubtfully. Itsuki-sensei quirked an eyebrow back.</p><p>"Or," he continued thoughtfully, "the breach of trust was more severe. I wasn't there for you and Akihiko when you needed me, and because of that you lost each other, but you saw for yourself what had become of me in the wake of the mission. It may be you didn't hold me with the same accountability you might have had I been more mentally well."</p><p>So the difference, then, was how freely betrayal had been chosen. That made sense. I knew very well that Itsuki-sensei, had he been able, would have done everything in his power to help us; in his case, he had not abandoned us so much as become unable to take care of us. In fact, it was probably that sense of responsibility that had contributed so heavily to his breakdown. His inability to help us had been the thing that had hurt him most.</p><p>But in the case of Uncle Souhei… I found myself going quiet as I followed that same logic. In the case of Uncle Souhei, he had done what I'd tried to do. Unlike me, he'd succeeded. He had buried his foreknowledge regardless of who he knew would suffer. And he had kept burying it every day until the impossible happened and someone else found him out.</p><p>"Suzu-chan?" Itsuki-sensei asked softly as hot tears began to run down my face.</p><p>"I'm so angry," I whispered. "Because I know exactly why he did it. I almost did it myself. And I don't feel like I have a right to get angry at him, because I—" because I'd done the same to someone else, and he still hadn't forgiven me, and I was still living in exile in my own home because of his anger— "I've betrayed someone else in just the same way, if not to the same degree."</p><p>A shallower or more spiteful man might have told me that what went around came around, but Itsuki-sensei regarded me carefully as he stood and picked up his stool. He came over and carefully set it down beside mine. Then he sat.</p><p>"Suzu-chan, I'm not a wise man," he told me, "and the advice you get from me is only ever informed by my own life. I don't know about other people's circumstances. But if you were to ask me, I would say that hurtful things don't hurt any less just because you think you might deserve it.</p><p>"I don't know what he did, I don't know what you did, and I don't know who has harmed who and what excuses there are to be had," he said, lifting a hand and settling it gently on the back of my neck, "but life has a way of making us settle accounts. Whether or not you've done wrong to one person doesn't excuse another doing wrong to you. And that person will have to account for what he's done to you just as you are accounting for what you've done yourself."</p><p>I burst into full-blown sobs then, but Itsuki-sensei seemed to have been expecting it; he merely handed me the box of tissues he'd snagged from the counter. I sat in the middle of his shop wailing for a solid five minutes, heedless of any customers I chased away with the scene, but Itsuki-sensei didn't seem to mind. He patted me on the back once I'd calmed down and then calmly retook his place behind the counter.</p><p>"Sensei, I don't know what I did to deserve you," I confessed a long moment later. Itsuki-sensei's lips quirked.</p><p>"Oh, Suzu-chan," he said fondly. "If it were up to me I'd say you deserve better. But that's the beauty of life, don't you think? It's not up to either of us, and we get to have one another anyway."</p><hr/><p>I spent the weekend cooling off with the Mikawayas. Mikawayas plural, since I was given the chance to finally meet Itsuki-sensei's aged aunt. For an old woman in ill health she seemed quite sharp and energetic, and she was just as clever and delightful as her nephew. But unlike her nephew, who had dropped most of his gregarious faces and was quite quiet these days, she seemed to be a genuinely extroverted person who took great pleasure in making friends with me.</p><p>"You are a good girl," she told me at the end of the day. She took my hands with an earnest smile. "You come by and bother Itsuki whenever you want. I won't be around much longer and I know he'll be lonely without me."</p><p>Itsuki-sensei was obligated to roll his eyes at this, but I think his aunt and I both were touched when he didn't protest.</p><p>I found myself returning home laden not only with two bags of fruit but also with a huge container of karaage. My aunt took one look at me and blessed me for bringing home a chunk of dinner. She did so quite openly, which was unusual for her, and I wondered if the ever-shrinking noose of finances had tightened yet further. Then I belatedly began to consider that the Mikawayas were actually endeavoring to help our financial situation by plying me with unprecedented amounts of food. Itsuki-sensei had always gifted me souvenirs, but he had never been in the habit of giving me quite so much before I'd started working for him.</p><p>Auntie was bound to have heard of the episode with Uncle—especially considering he was still gone, <em>again</em>—but she didn't make much comment. She had a knowing look on her face; it was the look of a woman who had been proven right in things she would have preferred to be wrong about. But later on that evening as I was helping her with the dishes, she did say this: "It's one thing for him to do it to me. But he is mistaken if he thinks any of you are obligated to tolerate him in the same way."</p><p>I gave her a look of shock. She regarded me seriously.</p><p>"I am his wife, but you are not," she told me. "I chose him and I keep choosing him. But you did not choose him, and if you wanted, you could leave this place and support yourself without him—and I'm glad for it. I hope you know that, Suzu," she added, more softly now.</p><p>I stared at her in silence, at a loss for words. Most wards of the clan stayed at the House until they came of age, but nothing prevented us from leaving so long as the clan head could be convinced we would have a stable living situation. Still, I knew of no orphan in recent years who had done so. It'd never occurred to me to even consider it.</p><p>We resumed washing in a strange kind of hush. I turned my foster mother's words over in my mind. Lately so many unthinkable things had become possible. But if I wanted to leave the House, I could, couldn't I? I didn't have a doubt of where I would go. It might even be a genuinely beneficial situation—the House would have one mouth less to feed, too.</p><p>"But I'll stay," I decided quietly as we began putting the cutlery away. "At least for now."</p><p>Auntie didn't turn to look at me, but I saw her mouth curve into a small smile. "That's good, too," she replied. "He shouldn't have the power to drive you out."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Souhei's Secret (2)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Previously: Souhei's secret comes to light; Suzu spends a weekend with the Mikawayas; Reiko speaks with her daughter about choices and freedom.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Reprising the Yamanaka Yin Release techniques I'd used on the Sakuya mission was more difficult than I'd remembered it being, but I suppose that was to be expected after so many months without fine manipulation. I'd tried searching for my uncle with regular auditory sense, but he was either hiding or shielding impeccably; I walked through the village several times a day every day for a week, but it still didn't turn up any results. But I knew that while shielding could conceal the chakra he would be producing now it could do nothing for chakra he'd expelled already. And I suspected he'd used quite a lot of it; the crashing clamor of his shunshin through the window had been clear. Chances were he'd used enough of it that traces were lingering even now.</p>
<p>So that was how the morning found me plodding along rooftops, expelling chakra into the environment, and listening carefully for any echoes of his booming signature. Konoha was triply noisy this way and it hurt my head on top of consuming monstrous amounts of chakra, but Souhei Namikaze had been a jounin and his chakra sound was both wider and louder for it. Plenty of shinobi hopped along the rooftops daily but there were only a handful of jounin-level ninja left in the village. And I had spent my whole life listening to the sound of Uncle Souhei besides; it was only a matter of time before I picked up on his trail.</p>
<p>Said trail led through the market and towards the district of the old clans. I passed by the gates of the Uchiha compound and found myself standing at the edge of Akimichi land. Here I got turned around and had to spend several minutes relocating his signature, but eventually I caught it again and followed it until I found myself standing at the gates of a large white-walled estate. I looked at the nameplate and read "Tsukimori" in elegant calligraphy.</p>
<p>I stared. Tsukimori, as in the tea traders? They were an exceedingly old family, established well before any sort of Hidden Village came to be, that had followed in the wake of the Akimichi alongside their vassal clans. Though they were merchants and not ninja, they had brought with them all of their property, business, and craft; paired with the medicine-making prowess of the Nara clan they were half the reason Konoha had had an economy to begin with. In fact, it would not be an exaggeration to say that Konoha was the village it was today because of their influence. While most other villages could only peddle their military services, the young Leaf Village had been able to rely on both the Nara medicines and the Tsukimori tea trade to bolster itself in times of financial hardship. In short, they had made the village rich, and that wealth had created the surplus that allowed the Shodaime's peace-loving ways to take root.</p>
<p>The estate, I concluded after another few minutes' inspection, was as warded as any shinobi clan's compound. The sound of its detection and protection seals sang through the air all throughout both the gate and wall, and the construction of it—physical and not—created an absolutely impenetrable space. I could not hear a thing from the place beyond. It was like a pocket of total silence.</p>
<p>Well, I mused, that was hardly surprising. The Tsukimori family lacked neither funds nor prestige. It was no wonder their grounds were so well-fortified. The true mystery was how Souhei Namikaze had come to be here.</p>
<p>Sneaking in was an option, I supposed, but not one with much promise of longevity. Disguise would not avail me much in a private residence, either. Well. Part of infiltration was knowing what constituted a realistic target. Nothing for it: I reached out and rapped the knocker on the gate.</p>
<p>I expected to be kept waiting several minutes; even if they had a sealing relay in place to notify the main residence, it would take at least that long just for someone to come and answer—unless there was a manned gatehouse, anyway. But to my surprise several seconds later a brown-haired boy appeared atop the wall and regarded me quizzically. I blinked and gave him a curious look of my own. I knew from my readings that the Tsukimori were not ninja, but that boy had clearly just used a shinobi's leap.</p>
<p>"Hey," he said.</p>
<p>"Hey," I said back.</p>
<p>"Who are you? What do you want?" His eyes, bright like evergreens, were full of inquiry. He was my age, I decided. He was probably a chuunin, too. His signature was intriguing and complex far beyond the simple monophonic melodies characteristic of genin, but still thin enough to betray a lack of power that precluded him from the rank of jounin.</p>
<p>"I'm Suzu Namikaze. I'm looking for my uncle, Souhei Namikaze."</p>
<p>The boy's eyes lit with recognition and he disappeared from the wall. A moment later the gate creaked open and he waved me over.</p>
<p>"You're Souhei's niece?" he asked in a hushed voice once I had come forward. "Really? I thought he decided not to tell you about us."</p>
<p>I found my face immediately going flat.</p>
<p>"Are you perhaps Kyouya-san?" I queried. Unbelievable—an Earthling here at the Tsukimori family estate. And he knew me, too. Uncle had clearly spoken about me to them.</p>
<p>"What? No, I'm Tsubasa," the boy replied. "Tsubasa Yoshizawa. Kyouya's inside."</p>
<p>"...May I come in?" I decided right then and there that I would be better off gathering more information firsthand. Tsubasa regarded me with a tilt of his head.</p>
<p>"Souhei's not here right now, though," he told me. "He left an hour ago. None of the others are here, either. It's just me and Kyouya."</p>
<p>So Uncle wasn't here after all. Perhaps that was why I had gotten the trail confused. He'd probably crossed his own path over.</p>
<p>"That's all right," I said. "I don't mean to intrude, of course, but if I could…"</p>
<p>Tsubasa scrutinized me for a long moment before shrugging cavalierly and grinning. He widened the gap in the gate and motioned me inside.</p>
<p>"Oh, wait." Tsubasa paused before pulling me over to a wooden plate affixed to the gate post. "Hey, could you put some chakra in your hand and put it on that wooden circle?" He frowned. "Wait, can you use chakra? If you can't, blood is okay, too."</p>
<p>Well, those were flags of a fuuinjutsu contract if I ever saw them. I examined the wooden plate critically. My sealing knowledge was far from complete, but from what I did know, it seemed that this plate was linked to the security seals. A close look revealed something like a reverse summon mechanism, which made me wonder if the people on the contract could be dumped outside the gate at the order of the array master.</p>
<p>"It's nothing sketchy," Tsubasa added helpfully. "It's just anyone who isn't registered automatically gets thrown out by the sealing wards. If you're with me, it's fine, but if you have to go pee or something you might end up sitting on the street instead of the toilet if you don't get back to me in time."</p>
<p>Well, wasn't that fascinating? Subject oneself to the array or automatically be expulsed. I had heard of such powerful security seals from Kushina; they were excruciatingly difficult to anchor and insanely expensive to create on all accounts. Labor, materials, expertise—probably in all the Elemental Nations only the Uzumaki themselves would have been capable of it. The only other family in the village likely to have such a defensive array would be the Senju, and that was because the clans had intermarried.</p>
<p>Conclusion: the Tsukimori family had hired Uzumaki fuuinjutsu masters to ward their family estate at the time of its building. I paused. Either they really were just that rich, or they had powerful enemies. Considering their role as an economic pillar of Konoha, though, it was quite possibly both. The village would have an interest in protecting them.</p>
<p>Still, I thought as I gave the plate another once-over, the seals Kushina had told me about were much more malicious than a simple reverse-summoning. I supposed they were a civilian family after all.</p>
<p>So thinking, I gathered chakra into my hand and pressed it against the wood. The plate flickered briefly upon contact, but nothing else happened after that.</p>
<p>"Oh, you can use chakra," Tsubasa commented.</p>
<p>"I'm a ninja," I replied before pausing. "Or—well, I have a ninja's training."</p>
<p>Tsubasa made a thoughtful noise at this. He eyed me speculatively and tilted his head.</p>
<p>"I wasn't sure," he said after a moment, and I realized he was tilting his ear towards me like he was listening. "You don't look like one, and I thought you didn't really sound like one, but maybe you do. For some reason it's hard to hear you. You sound… kind of slippery."</p>
<p>Curious, I released my blending technique. I had been hiding my signature in case Uncle Souhei was using his own sensory abilities to avoid me, but maybe—</p>
<p>"Oh," Tsubasa paused. Then he narrowed his eyes at me.</p>
<p>"I—haven't decided if I'm retiring for real yet," I confessed a moment later. "I thought I would like to. But I'm not sure. I don't know. But it's useless to think about right now anyway. I'm on a mission ban."</p>
<p>"Wow, you got suspended?" Tsubasa gave me an impressed look as he waved for me to follow and we began making our way to the mansion nestled in the grounds ahead. He was a charismatic boy, I decided. He had the air of an old friend who was easy to talk to. The admission had slipped out without my thinking.</p>
<p>"I got in trouble," I said, a little more vaguely now.</p>
<p>"Well, duh. People don't get full mission bans for nothing."</p>
<p>Charismatic, but also somewhat insensitive. Or, I considered, intentionally obtuse. Some people did cultivate that sort of persona deliberately.</p>
<p>Tsubasa led me down a winding stone path and over a small ornamental bridge. A tiny stream—I couldn't tell if it was natural or man-made—cut through the grass and pooled into a decorative pond dotted with lilypads. From there we entered a lovely garden, and from the garden, a short walk through a copse of bamboo. Then we made it to a small side door at the east end of the building. Instead of entering, however, Tsubasa circled around the wall and hollered, "Kyouya, Souhei's niece came to visit!"</p>
<p>I hurried around the corner and saw a large study located in a traditionally-styled room. The veranda doors had all been slid open to admit the spring air and a man was sitting at the center of the tatami; his desk was small and lightweight, as was typical of Japanese furniture, but his pile of scrolls was very, very large.</p>
<p>He stood with vigor at our approach. He was dressed as traditionally as his surroundings in full haori, kimono, and hakama, and he clapped his hands delightedly when he saw me.</p>
<p>"Oh, welcome!" he beamed. He did not look so old in the face, but his dark hair was sprouting streaks of gray at the forehead. "Please, come in. Tsu-chan, would you—"</p>
<p>Tsubasa kicked off his sandals and entered directly via the veranda. He went to a closet and pulled out extra cushions to sit on, which he lined up at a low-lying table on the other side of the room before plopping down. He patted the other cushion with his hand.</p>
<p>A moment later Kyouya swept back in with a tray of tea and a bowl of rice crackers. I found myself seated beside Tsubasa and plied with refreshments.</p>
<p>"I'm so pleased to have you here today," Kyouya told me with a glowing smile. I was somewhat taken aback by his earnestness. Hospitality was a skill of any upper-crust merchant and warm welcomes, no matter how artificial, were a social obligation in these circles. But it was hard to fake the kind of sincere joy that made eyes light the way his were lit now. I glanced at Tsubasa, but Tsubasa only returned my curious look with one of his own.</p>
<p>"Thank you so much for welcoming me into your home," I replied searchingly. "My name is Misuzu Namikaze. I'm honored to make your acquaintance."</p>
<p>My formal salute seemed to trigger a conditioned response in him; he straightened and answered in flawlessly natural keigo, "The honor is mine. I thank you for coming to my home today. My name is Kyouya Tsukimori."</p>
<p>There was the smooth courtesy I had initially been expecting. As was befitting of the scion of Konoha's richest trade titans; just that single greeting was enough for me to glimpse the education of a prince. But then Kyouya blinked and seemed to come out of it.</p>
<p>"But please, just call me Kyouya," he continued, warm once more. I was stumped.</p>
<p>"Kyouya's not a snob," Tsubasa, having watched this exchange and rightfully guessed at my confusion, said. "Don't worry, he means it. He lives to have visitors."</p>
<p>I turned to stare. I appreciated a person who would rather cut knots than dither over niceties, but there existed a kind of blunt that soared beyond frank and landed in rude.</p>
<p>"Tsu-chan," Kyouya laughed, utterly unbothered.</p>
<p>"What?" Tsubasa put his arms behind his head and kicked back. Kyouya tsked as the boy let his upper body sprawl across the tatami.</p>
<p>"Tsu-chan, not in company!"</p>
<p>"What? It's fine, isn't it? She's Souhei's niece."</p>
<p>"Yes, well…" Kyouya's lips pursed. But his eyes did flicker, inscrutable, in my direction. I couldn't help but smile a bit at the sight. He carried the air of the cheerfully guileless, which was unusual for someone of his status, but that flicker spoke of intelligence. He was sharp, then. Possibly he was sharp enough to play the inevitable politics of the wealthy without corrupting himself in the process. At any rate he was very polite—polite enough to play the host before satisfying his own curiosity, which was the sort of courtesy that spoke less toward social obligation and just a little more towards kindness.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry to impose so suddenly, Kyouya-san," I offered as I decided that, tentatively, he was deserving of good regard. Kyouya's face broke out into a small smile; he looked pleased that I had acquiesced to call him by name. Perhaps he sensed tacit approval in it. It was obvious I'd been sounding him out... he was probably no stranger to these sorts of games. The fact that he was playing along so good-naturedly, I thought, was another point in his favor.</p>
<p>"Not at all, Misuzu-san," he assured me. "Tsu-chan has the right of it. I'm always more than happy to have visitors. Please—"</p>
<p>"—come by any time you please!" Tsubasa cut in with exaggerated mimicry, voice doubling over Kyouya's. Kyouya shot the boy another amused look.</p>
<p>"That's what I'm doing, anyway," Tsubasa added cheerfully. He wiggled his eyebrows and fluttered his fingers to show he had only been teasing. "Haven't been home in ages. He even gave me my own room."</p>
<p>My eyebrows rose. Kyouya let out a sheepish chuckle.</p>
<p>"But most of us have rooms here, honestly," Tsubasa added. He regarded me slyly. "Souhei has one, too."</p>
<p>My first impression of Tsubasa began to solidify. At first he had reminded me quite a lot of Akihiko; with his friendly bearing and open personality, it was an easy comparison to make. And just like Akihiko, whose intelligence had frequently been obscured by his overly-straightforward approach, Tsubasa, too, seemed to be a person of hidden depths. But that, I thought, was also where the two comparisons disconnected. There was a kind of cunning intentionality behind Tsubasa's behavior. He was not incognizant of what he was doing. In fact, I suspected he was very aware of every faux pas and subtle slight he committed—he was just choosing to commit them anyway. To what end I couldn't tell, but it made him quite different from Akihiko indeed. Akihiko, I reflected, had never been so self-aware as that.</p>
<p>Tsubasa saw my assessing gaze and flashed a charming smile.</p>
<p>"Tsubasa," Kyouya said as he leaned his chin onto his hand. There was a note of warning in his mild voice; he gave the boy a quelling look as if to tell him to play nice.</p>
<p>These two, I reflected, were a fascinating pair. Still, as interesting as it was to play ball with them, I had come this far with a task. My head was still faint and my ears were still ringing with it. "I came here today to ask after my uncle. He's been missing for over a week now. I followed his trail here."</p>
<p>Both Tsubasa and Kyouya stalled.</p>
<p>"...He didn't tell you he was here?" Tsubasa asked. Kyouya's eyebrows began to rise.</p>
<p>"No. We haven't spoken since he left."</p>
<p>"Then how did you know Kyouya's name?" Tsubasa squinted with confusion. "I didn't mention him."</p>
<p>Figuring now was as good a time as any to lay out the situation, I shrugged and did just that. I detailed how I'd found the letter, confronted him about its contents, and had a massive row. By the time I had finished both Tsubasa and Kyouya were regarding me with troubled brows.</p>
<p>"My person never knew what <em>Naruto</em> was," Tsubasa told me.</p>
<p>"Nor mine," Kyouya agreed. "I only learned of it after meeting Daisuke and Souhei."</p>
<p>Then that, at least, had not been a lie. Uncle has claimed that only half of the group—however big this group was, I thought with exasperation at yet another unknown name—had known about the story.</p>
<p>"Souhei's been using your house to avoid his family," Tsubasa said to Kyouya after a moment had passed. Kyouya raised an eyebrow and I remembered Tsubasa's comment about not having been home in ages. "What? I'm not giving him flak about it. But my situation's also pretty different, hey? Besides, I don't have kids to take care of."</p>
<p>These days it was feeling more and more like even that didn't matter—we were getting by just fine without Uncle. In fact, lately things got so awkward when he did finally roll around that his presence was probably actually a detriment to our daily operations. But that didn't make it all right for him to just ditch us, I reminded myself silently. The solution wasn't to just cut him loose to keep doing as he pleased. It was to make sure he was actually present enough so that he wasn't such a stranger in his own house. Besides, even though most of us were old enough now to help Auntie around the house, it was not fair in the least to pin the raising of all of us on a single woman. Even if the war had ended and no more new orphans were coming to the House, that was no reason to put everything on her.</p>
<p>"Hayato would know more about this situation," Kyouya concluded after a moment of long thought. "Souhei doesn't talk about his personal life with us."</p>
<p>"Even though he crashes at your house for weeks on end?" Either my uncle was tremendously rude or Kyouya was tremendously permissive.</p>
<p>"Both, I'd say," Tsubasa replied to that. "Souhei wasn't always like that, though. He was a pretty normal guy when I first met him."</p>
<p>"When did you first meet him?" I pounced on this first chance to gather actual concrete intelligence on this "Earthling group" since I'd arrived.</p>
<p>"Eh, three or four years ago, I guess?" Tsubasa tilted his head ponderingly. "I was like nine or ten or something. But it's only this past year or two that he's gotten weirder and weirder."</p>
<p>That matched with my experiences. When I'd been younger he hadn't been nearly so distant and avoidant as he was now. What had changed? Had it been something I'd done? Had it simply been because the time to change things had been running out?</p>
<p>"How did you meet my uncle, Kyouya-san?" I asked softly. Kyouya regarded me knowingly. And then, instead of calling me out in my unsubtle digs for information, he politely began at the very beginning of the beginning.</p>
<p>"I can't give you the full story because I wasn't around for the start of it," he cautioned. "You would need to talk to Daisuke or Souhei themselves. Daisuke is the oldest," he added when I opened my mouth to question him. "He was the first person out of all of us. I don't know how they met. But as for me, Souhei and his team took a genin mission to help my uncle remodel the west gardens when we were children." Kyouya pointed a finger past the bamboo thicket Tsubasa and I had come through. "And that's how we met for the first time. He saw me writing in English and recognized it right away. I knew he was different, too, because most people just thought I was making up my own code and let me be, but he kept bothering me about it.</p>
<p>"Later on I went out to meet him and Daisuke. I was curious because I'd never met anyone else who could read English. When I got there, they tried to talk to me about <em>Naruto</em>, but of course I didn't know." He paused. "And then while we were talking Hayato dropped out of a tree and said that it wasn't surprising that I didn't know. 'Not everyone on Earth knew what <em>Naruto</em> was, either.'" Kyouya made air quotations with his fingers.</p>
<p>I stared. And then I fought back a laugh. It seemed that even when he'd been young Hayato-sensei's defining trait had been his practical rationality.</p>
<p>"The group grew over time," Kyouya continued. "Hayato met Hideaki and Aoi at the hospital. My cousin Nana came to stay with my family for a month and we found each other out at the same time. And Tsubasa…"</p>
<p>"They fished me out of the river," Tsubasa interjected brightly. I turned to stare at him.</p>
<p>"...What, with a fishing rod?" I asked, incredulous, as he continued to smile without elaborating.</p>
<p>"You bet." Tsubasa made a hook with his index finger and snagged it on his collar. "Just like that."</p>
<p>I looked at Kyouya, fully expecting him to ask the boy to stop telling tales, but Kyouya nodded. "He got caught on Hideaki's line and snapped it, so Hideaki dove in and pulled him out of the river. He'd hit his head and was babbling in Earth languages, so Hideaki brought him to Souhei and Souhei took care of his injuries."</p>
<p>That was… the most miraculous string of coincidences I'd ever heard of in my life. The entire group, it seemed, was made totally of chance meetings. If Earthlings were this easy to stumble across they could be anywhere.</p>
<p>"You're not wrong," Kyouya commented contemplatively. "Hayato thinks so, too. Obviously the phenomenon isn't incredibly widespread, else we'd have clairvoyant shinobi tripping all over themselves in an attempt to manipulate the future, but there's no discounting there may be others out there we just haven't met. Most of us were carrying on with our normal lives before we happened to meet one another. Like as not any others out there are doing the same."</p>
<p>"Hayato thinks there may be others in the other villages, too," Tsubasa commented. "He says it must be the reason why reality here differs from the one in the story. He thinks some sort of—what'd he say, butterfly effect? He thinks some sort of butterfly effect has been going on for a while now, altering things."</p>
<p>It took me a couple of moments to chew on this. Putting aside the notion that there were others out there in the world running about with their own second sets of alien memories, in what way did reality differ here from the <em>Naruto </em>story? Everything had been proceeding on track for tragedy right up until the moment I set out to change things myself.</p>
<p>"I think it's more subtle than that," Kyouya said. "I don't know the details, but he did try to explain it to me. According to him, if things here were exactly as it was in the story you all know, the world would be warped and full of inconsistencies. But for some reason the plot holes haven't managed to break reality here, and he thinks that it must have been the presence of others like us, if not their direct intervention, that have caused a stabilizing effect."</p>
<p>I stared. "That seems like an awfully neat explanation," I finally replied. "If it's true that there are more of us, you'd think things would be more chaotic and reality-bending, not less. I'd be surprised if things bore any sort of resemblance to the original story at all."</p>
<p>Tsubasa and Kyouya both shrugged at that. "It was all very cerebral," the Kyouya admitted. "I probably have not done his theory justice with such a confused and abridged explanation. I suppose you could ask him yourself the next time the group gathers…"</p>
<p>I perked up. "How often does the group hold gatherings?"</p>
<p>Kyouya and Tsubasa exchanged glances.</p>
<p>"There's not any sort of formal schedule or anything, if that's what you're asking," Tsubasa replied. "...When I was younger we got together monthly to eat and stuff, but lately nothing happens unless someone purposely asks for a meeting."</p>
<p>"Souhei was never explicitly our leader," Kyouya commented, "and it's not like we have any sort of hierarchy to begin with, but after Daisuke took off on his own I suppose he just sort of fell into an organizer's role. But at some point Souhei…" Kyouya paused to search for a suitable phrasing. "...began to express discomfort, I suppose, whenever we had meetings, and things got awkward. We never did anything besides socialize and I suppose it felt awkward for a lot of us to see him forcing himself like that when we weren't doing anything important, so that's how monthly tea parties eventually ceased to be. Now most of us simply exchange letters to keep in contact instead."</p>
<p>I sat on my heels and frowned. If that was the case they might not meet again at all in the foreseeable future. I resisted the urge to cross my arms as I sat and considered my options. What would I do now that I was here? What could I do, knowing my uncle's secret as I did now? I knew without a doubt I wanted to meet the rest of these people, but I sincerely doubted my uncle would simply summon them all at my request. If anything it was going to be a challenge just to get him to speak with me at all at this point.</p>
<p>"How does this Thursday sound, Misuzu-san?" Kyouya asked, jolting me out of my thoughts.</p>
<p>"No way, my squad's got company drills with Team 23 and Team 25," Tsubasa objected before I had a chance to reply. "And Hideaki and Isana are out of the village until Friday, anyway!"</p>
<p>"Oh, I'd forgotten. That's right. Then how about Saturday?" Kyouya looked at me. I gave him a bewildered stare.</p>
<p>"What about this Saturday?"</p>
<p>"What else?" Tsubasa interrupted again before Kyouya could speak. "For a group meeting, obviously."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Souhei's Secret (3)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Previously: Suzu follows her uncle's trail to an unexpected place; Kyouya and Tsubasa make their first appearances; fateful meetings stand on the horizon.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hey there, little sister! How are you today?"</p><p>I found myself being lifted in the air by a young man with tousled brown hair and smiling hazel eyes. His mask was resting askew atop his head, and his cloak, hanging unzipped and open, revealed the steel grays and charcoal blacks of his uniform. His gauntlets were cool against the skin of my underarms, and at this close distance it was easy to see the assortment of knives and senbon stashed away all over his person—I counted two kunai and a bundle of needles in his sleeves alone.</p><p>Hideaki laughed merrily at my confounded stare. Beside him, Isana stood aloof. She seemed much more in place in her ANBU garb than he did. She was very stoic and her dark stare was unreadable. She was elegant in a sharp kind of way; her long plait, released from its coiled bun, reached well down her back. After a moment her gaze drifted away from my face and fixed itself on Hideaki's.</p><p>"She's not a baby," she said. "Don't infantilize her just because she's a girl. Put her down."</p><p>I found a burgeoning respect for her beginning to grow within me despite myself. It was not that Hideaki, I thought, was necessarily talking down at me. I knew that the I&amp;E personnel had been grooming me to come off as disarmingly cute as possible. As a domestic infiltrator aimed towards high society it was simply the commonsense approach; a sweet-looking girl, after all, could go farther amongst the wealthy than a scrappy one. The role of looks in my work was undeniable. So in truth this exact sort of doting behavior would be just the sort of thing I ought to want from people; it would become my lifeline if I ever got the chance to do a real infiltration, after all. But that did not always mean I liked it. It messed with the brain to be loved only for a cultivated image. </p><p>Hideaki eyed me and then his partner shrewdly before he laughed again and set me down. "Pardon me," he said as he placed me gently on the grass. As soon as he did, though, he glanced at Tsubasa sidelong.</p><p>"Wait, before that," Tsubasa interjected before Hideaki could conduct any similarly embarrassing greetings. Then all of a sudden I found myself bending over backwards to avoid the spray of shuriken that flew in Hideaki's direction. Hideaki laughed delightedly and jumped back as Tsubasa produced a ninjato from nowhere and charged.</p><p>"Tsubasa!" Isana yelled, angry, before cutting herself off abruptly as she saw me flip back onto my feet from my hands. "You're a ninja?" she asked with narrowed eyes. I'd been unconsciously cloaking again, it seemed.</p><p>"Nominally. I've been on a disciplinary ban for the last…" I paused to count as I released my technique. "...six months, I guess."</p><p>She gave me a startled look as the suspicion fell from her face. "And how much longer do you have to go?"</p><p>"I don't know. It wasn't specified in the order."</p><p>"Your CO didn't tell you? Have you appealed?" She looked concerned now. "A whole half-year without work is harsh. Are you doing all right?"</p><p>"Who is there to appeal to?" I asked doubtfully. "The ban came from the Hokage. I've been taking some work from a friend, but I've mostly been relying on the clan to get by."</p><p>"From the Hokage?" Isana was incredulous now. "You're—what, a chuunin?"</p><p>I averted my eyes. "Yeah."</p><p>"It's unusual for the Hokage to be involved with the discipline of a mere chuunin," Hideaki commented as he came to a sudden stop beside us. Tsubasa was wheezing against a nearby tree and clutching his stomach. It seemed he'd been immobilized by a winding punch to the diaphragm. </p><p>"It is," Isana agreed.</p><p>"It's not like Yondaime-sama to be so heavy-handed," he commented further. "Especially with someone so young. We haven't known him long, of course, but so far he has generally been quite gracious. He's treated ANBU twice your age with more lenience…" He peered at me with a creased brow. "I'm shocked to hear he actually decided to starve someone out of the Forces. Even if you were some sort of political enemy and he did it to stamp out your influence…"</p><p>I just stared back blankly. Did he think I could hold that kind of power? I was thirteen.</p><p>"They say Shimura-sama was that old when he began gathering influence," Isana observed in reply. "He wasn't able to become Hokage thanks to Sarutobi-sama's appointment, but he enjoys enormous clout in the village to this day. Considering how charged village politics have become lately I wouldn't be surprised if Lord Fourth wished to crush any new threats before they rose."</p><p>"He never struck me as the sort," Hideaki mused, troubled. Then he put out an arm and neatly twisted Tsubasa's blade from his hand. "Still a moment, dearheart… these are strange tidings."</p><p>"Jerk," Tsubasa grumbled, though without heat. He grabbed his sword back and slid it back into its sheath. "You said we'd duel."</p><p>"How did you come to be in this situation?" Hideaki asked, ignoring this. His gaze shifted into something a little more detached and analytical, and suddenly he didn't seem so out of place in his uniform after all. "You are Souhei's niece, so I suppose that means you are also one of the orphans?"</p><p>I swallowed as a wave of discomfort swept through me. "I… uh, yeah. We grew up together. Or, well, we lived together until he came of age and moved out. And… I was on his team, Team 7, for a while. As a—a replacement member."</p><p>Tsubasa tilted his head, and Isana and Hideaki suddenly fixed me with looks of recognition.</p><p>"Imouto-sama," Isana said.</p><p>"Oh, that's fascinating," Hideaki murmured. "You're imouto-sama."</p><p>"But you're not actually his sister," Tsubasa prodded.</p><p>"I—no, we're cousins. But everyone calls him Minato-nii, I mean, all the kids at the House call him that. People probably just misunderstood," I stammered in explanation, feeling at once like a particularly distasteful imposter. And yet—</p><p>What could I say to explain? I shut my mouth. I had not spoken to Minato once since the confrontation with Obito. To be recognized as "imouto-sama" when it was ambiguous if he even thought of me as his family anymore—when I was not sure I even wanted to be his sister anymore— </p><p>I had never asked to be taken as the Hokage's sibling and showered with status. It wasn't right. It was a lie. Besides, there was a whole household of children beside me who loved him better anyway.</p><p>Hideaki made a noise of comprehension. "I see," he muttered.</p><p>"What?" asked Tsubasa.</p><p>Hideaki, it seemed, was unwilling to air out the dirty linens of others, so he furrowed his brow and didn't reply. Isana looked at her partner, regarded me clinically, and then also decided to keep her silence.</p><p>"Tsu-chan!" Kyouya's voice suddenly floated over from across the stream. He was tending to a setup of tables and picnic blankets in the garden. "Nana's arrived but she hasn't come in. Could you go to the gate and check if she needs help? Her hands might be full."</p><p>Tsubasa opened his mouth and looked like he might complain about being redirected, but the three of us immediately held up our hands to assert our innocence. Scowling slightly but mostly resigned, he grumbled about being left out of the loop and took off in a sullen shunshin to the gate.</p><p>Hideaki and Isana both returned their stares to me once he'd gone. Hideaki considered me deeply.</p><p>"You're a talented cloaker," he said after a long moment. "Your affect was totally normal when you were blending your signature earlier. Can you do total erasure, too?"</p><p>Isana raised her eyebrows at Hideaki as I responded in the affirmative. "You don't think…?" she trailed.</p><p>"I do think," he replied, still looking at me. "No wonder he disciplined you personally—you're the hospital intruder. I thought it must have been an inside job… the hunters would've been mobilized if it had been a foreign shinobi."</p><p>My mouth popped open and my stomach did a truly terrible twist at the mere thought of ANBU hunters mobilized to track me down. Just thinking of it was enough to make the blood drain from my face. </p><p>“Yes, this does make sense,” Hideaki muttered to himself. “I understand now. You provided internal intelligence about the Kyuubi Attack that would have kicked off the <em> Naruto </em> series as a means to prevent it happening. But this strained your relationship with the Hokage, so he benched you. But you knew about the dangers and you forced your way into the operation against his orders, and he punished you more for it.”</p><p>"...An indefinite mission ban still seems excessive to me," Isana commented after a long moment. "It's all within the Hokage's rights to fire someone from the Forces, but the Commander did say that it was the intruder who slowed the confrontation enough for him to send along backup."</p><p>"You went to save his life, didn't you?" Hideaki regarded me pensively. "I understand why Hokage-sama would discipline you for disobeying orders, but some measure of leniency would be expected for your contributions to his safety. Not even the council could argue otherwise. The medics said he nearly bled out from his injury."</p><p>I felt like I wanted to wilt and to rage at once, and I vacillated between the two before settling on apathy. "He hasn't forgiven me," I said flatly. "For not telling him. For keeping the secret until now."</p><p>A long silence fell. The three of us stood still for a drawn-out moment. Then Hideaki came forward and picked me up again, this time under his arm, and gave me an affectionate noogie as he began walking back towards Kyouya. I gasped, recognizing the gesture from Earth memories.</p><p>"I've never been noogied before," I said, slightly awed, as I reached up with my unpinned arm to fix my hair. </p><p>"Unsurprising," Hideaki replied cheerfully, "since it's not a common gesture in this culture."</p><p>A strange wistful smile crossed very briefly over Isana's face, which made me wonder. Uncle had told me she was a normal person and had no memories of anyone but her own self. Why would she make such a face at seeing a noogie? Did Hideaki perhaps give her noogies, too? I took one glance at her no-nonsense stance, stern even in distraction, and immediately dismissed the idea.</p><p>"Ah, there they are." Kyouya smiled at us before looking past our shoulders towards the approaching figures of Tsubasa and Nana. "They—" he suddenly faltered.</p><p>Isana and Hideaki turned. Then they also faltered, eyes going wide, and I looked again at Tsubasa and Nana, puzzled.</p><p>And then I realized there was a third person between them. His figure was partially obscured by the large stack of pastry boxes Tsubasa was balancing in his arms. His shoulders were hunched with age, but his bearing was quite solid as he walked alongside Nana in quiet conversation. </p><p>"Daisuke?" said Kyouya.</p>
<hr/><p>He was an old man with the crest of the Sarutobi clan pinned on his back. My first thought upon seeing him was that he was cold. Cold-eyed, cold-faced, and exceptionally cold-hearted.</p><p>"Clumsy child," he said. "Are you upset at the Hokage for kicking you out of the Forces? If you were so determined to make a mess of things, the least you should have done was make a real plan. You have no one to blame but yourself." He snorted. "Fool girl."</p><p>My only reply was a speechless stare, but Hideaki had to hold Tsubasa back by both arms.</p><p>"What the fuck? Who the fuck do you think you are?" Tsubasa snarled. Hideaki winced as his captive aimed three ruthless kicks in quick succession, one against Hideaki’s shin and two against both his knees.</p><p>"And who are you?" Daisuke spared a disdainful glance. "Never mind," he dismissed before Tsubasa could reply. "Kyouya, what is your business, calling everyone out?"</p><p>From the moment Daisuke first spoke Kyouya's face had settled into iron civility; a carefully cultivated smile of vague welcome now hung on his features. It was not so forced as to be unnatural, but it was a very practiced expression.</p><p>"I wished to introduce my new acquaintance to the group," Kyouya replied gently. "I hadn't expected you to come, Daisuke, though of course you are welcome in my home. I'm pleased you took the time to visit us today."</p><p>Daisuke snorted again. "You don't actually think that you can shame me into playing nice by being polite."</p><p>"Oh no, not all." Kyouya demurred with great grace despite this decidedly discourteous declaration. "I have no patience for those sorts of games. Tsu-chan, here, I have your tea."</p><p>The still-steaming Tsubasa was roughly shoved into a lawn chair by Hideaki and forced into stillness by an overfilled cup of boiling beverage. Tsubasa stared mutinously up at all the adults around him, but Kyouya just smiled his practiced smile and began serving the group with slow, easy grace. I accepted my cup with dumb thanks; he spared me a warm nod. Then he invited Nana to join him as he seated himself by the table, leaving Daisuke to stand as the only man unserved. Daisuke raised an eyebrow.</p><p>"Do you think you're being clever by snubbing me in front of a group? As if I needed these people's regard."</p><p>Even our poker-faced ANBU were beginning to regard this bomb of feckless incivility with doubtful looks. I'd never encountered such unprovoked aggression from a fellow Leaf villager in my life.</p><p>"Certainly not," Kyouya replied. "As said, I have no interest in games. Throw your tantrum; you know my home as well as any of us. Once you have abused our sensibilities to your satisfaction, you are more than capable of seeing yourself out. You may return when you wish to speak with us like a decent human being. Until then there's no need, as you may say, to play nice." And so saying, he sipped his tea.</p><p>I turned in unison with Tsubasa to regard Kyouya with round eyes. Nana, who was wearing her own face of affected courtesy, gave her cousin a mild nod.</p><p>"What on earth are you doing?" I blurted out before another torrent of effrontery could spill forth from Daisuke's already-opening mouth. "What are you trying to accomplish right now?"</p><p>"He's displeased," Isana observed with indifference. "He is likely trying to scare you."</p><p>I just replied with another stare. What could he possibly gain from scaring me?</p><p>"Nothing much, I'd say," Hideaki remarked. "Presumably he wants you to resign yourself to the current situation and refrain from interfering further with the Hokage's affairs."</p><p>"What good would that do?" Things had been irreversibly altered. There was no taking that back now. </p><p>Hideaki just shrugged. I looked back at Daisuke and met a pair of flinty brown eyes. They were dark and displeased and— </p><p>Beneath his anger, I thought, there was a slew of breathless emotion. There was—disbelief. Distant denial and deep regret. I was suddenly taken back in time to the face of Kazuto, and I remembered him in his grief, spitting bitter resentment at his brother for lack of any other solace. </p><p>Daisuke saw the pity creep into my expression before I could stop it. His face screwed up with anger, but I couldn't help it. I didn't know the full of it, but even if I did, did it matter? I could tell just by reading the heavy guilt behind his eyes. He was like Uncle Souhei—or perhaps Uncle Souhei was like him. He'd known of <em> Naruto </em> and he'd refused to interfere. </p><p>I eyed his clan crest and his aged face and I thought he must have lost a lot in the time it took for skin to wrinkle like that. How many years must he have lived restraining himself, watching friends and family go, knowing everything and doing nothing?</p><p>"I haven't done anything wrong," I said softly. "And I don't deserve your anger. But I understand why you are angry."</p><p>Isana's brow furrowed, but Hideaki leaned forward with muted interest, as if he had spotted a fascinating animal from afar and wanted a closer look. Tsubasa, for his part, was wearing a face of tight restraint.</p><p>“Don’t patronize me,” Daisuke hissed back. “You arrogant child.”</p><p>He had not endeared himself to me much in the time of our short acquaintance and this did not do anything to help his case. But I flattened my lips and gave him a hard stare because no matter what names he called me it still wouldn’t change the truth.</p><p>“You can’t fault me for taking a different path,” I said. “And it may fail anyway.”</p><p>“With that sort of flippancy you’re twice the fool for doing this at all,” he spat.</p><p>“I’m not a fool for hoping. It’s a fool who wants change and does nothing to make one.”</p><p>“Who gave you the right to throw people’s lives about?”</p><p>“Who gave you the right to stand back and let them die?”</p><p>The whole garden was silent as we stared one another down. Nana and Kyouya eyed us with their expressions hidden behind their teacups. Hideaki turned his speculative gaze towards Daisuke.</p><p>“You’re a fool,” Daisuke finally said again. His words were hollow.</p><p>“Can you call yourself any wiser?” I questioned in reply.</p><p>The resulting gesture was a thing half-fury, half-despair. As suddenly as he had swept in, he swept away, taking his storm of ire with him. We tracked his path with our eyes and were rewarded with the sight of two figures standing a ways away at the bridge. Hayato-sensei turned to watch Daisuke leave; Uncle Souhei, however, stared at me with lips parted in astonishment.</p><p>“Why was Daisuke—” Uncle’s face was the very picture of perplexity. “How did you—did they invite—how is Suzu—”</p><p>“Apparently she followed your week-old trail all the way here. The kid’s a bloodhound,” Hideaki complimented. Now that the theatrics seemed to be more or less over, he had thrown himself onto the picnic blanket and was helping himself to Nana’s cookies. “I’d love to have another tracker like her for the unit. We’ve only got the one.” </p><p>As he said this he eyed me consideringly. I just gave him a tired look, wondering how I could shut that down while still sidestepping the fact that there had already been a failed recruitment attempt. I didn’t need a repeat of my Kakashi gaffe. </p><p>“I’d give it up, Hideaki,” Isana commented upon seeing my face. She seated herself beside me on the other blanket and passed me a sandwich. “Look at her. Have you seen a bigger ‘been there, done that’ look in your life?”</p><p>Hideaki blinked at me before pealing off into laughter. “Wow, you’re right!”</p><p>“You’re crazy,” Tsubasa told me as he slouched in his chair. “Did someone really try to recruit you into ANBU? Are we really the same age?”</p><p>I just pinched the bridge of my nose in reply.</p><p>“Suzu,” Uncle said.</p><p>The garden once again descended into tense silence. I looked up.</p><p>“Suzu, I…” His words seemed to die in his throat. There was a long moment as he simply looked down at me, unable to speak. Eventually I decided to break the silence for him.</p><p>“You should have told me,” I said. “Years ago. You should have helped me. I was all alone.”</p><p>And his face crumpled. I had never seen Souhei Namikaze cry once in all my life, but his mouth opened, turned downward, and let out a low, keening sound. He made a choking noise as he tried to stop it in his chest; the result was a strangled, coughing sob. Kyouya and Nana both averted their eyes, looking abashed on his behalf. Isana glanced awkwardly between us. Tsubasa’s eyes grew round; Hideaki just looked taken aback.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Uncle wept. “I’m… sorry. I can't—I don’t know how—"</p><p>"You should start at the beginning," Hayato-sensei suggested in a soft murmur. "She won't understand unless you tell her."</p><p>"How?" Uncle choked. "<em> Where? </em>"</p><p>A sigh. "Her parents, maybe."</p><p>What I knew of Kazue and Yasunari Namikaze’s deaths was not much. As I had been told growing up, they perished on the Suna front in the Second War shortly after I was born. I remembered nothing about them, not even impressions. I had been too young.</p><p>But I learned their history then. Some thirteen odd years ago, Uncle Souhei explained through gasping breaths, he had served as an iryou-nin while fighting in the war against Hidden Sand. Having been warned by his mentor not to become attached to those who were fated to die by canon, when he first learned that there would be a new forward group assembled to fight the as of then still unknown Suna puppeteer Sasori, he had resolved not to involve himself no matter the consequences. But when he’d learned his best friend Yasunari and his wife, Kazue, were members of that forward group, he’d changed his mind at the last moment and had raced to warn them in time. But he'd failed to reach them and, in the poisoned aftermath, failed also alongside the other medic-nin in devising an antidote quickly enough to save them. The antidote itself, when they finally managed to administer it, was only halfway effective. It spared the lives of the survivors—at the cost of their ability to mold chakra. </p><p>What happened in the aftermath of those days, it seemed, had burned a brand of fatalism directly onto Souhei's heart. He'd met the woman who eventually became his wife while helping the wounded of that battle, and he'd hated himself for the relationship and eventual marriage that came about in the wake of Kazue and Yasunari's deaths. When his wife Reiko was permanently ordered into retirement by the clan, he became a caretaker at the House alongside her. It was there that he encountered the newly-orphaned daughter of Kazue and Yasunari. When he met me, he said, he vowed in his heart that he would raise me in the place of my parents, who had died as a result of his cowardice.</p><p>"But I was never a good father to you," he whispered, face hidden behind a hand. "Never when it counted. This time least of all."</p><p>As he finished his tale there was a heavy silence. Hayato-sensei was the only one among us whose expression had remained even throughout the whole tale. I didn't know what to make of it. As I'd aged Auntie had spoken more about her life in the Second War, but Uncle never shared his story. I hadn't known he'd been friends with my parents. I didn't think he felt any responsibility for me beyond his general role as a clan caretaker.</p><p>And then, before I'd even really finished processing, I found myself saying, "You were a good father." And then I paused.</p><p>Uncle Souhei's face flooded with pained disbelief. Maybe he thought I was just saying it to make him feel better. I considered. Was I just saying it to make him feel better?</p><p>"No, you really were," I realized after a pensive moment. "When I was little you were always there. You were always watching. You were there when I was packing for Tatsumi River. You were there when I fought with Akihiko. You were there to rescue me and Haruka from the assassins, too. It counted then."</p><p>"But I—" he swallowed. "I should have helped you."</p><p>I considered this for a long moment, too. There was no doubt about that. He should have helped me. Not only for me, but for everyone whose life depended on our foreknowledge. He'd had a responsibility and he'd run from it. He'd disengaged and dropped all of his duties upon his wife and hid away, unable to face her or the children, because he was a coward. He <em> was </em> a coward.</p><p>"But I forgive you," I found myself concluding in a surprised voice. I was surprised. Just like that?</p><p>"Just like that?" Uncle whispered, unbelieving. I felt my eyebrows pinch together.</p><p>"No…" I said slowly. "No, you have to do something for me first."</p><p>The dread of reckoning was plain on his face. I'd never seen a grown man look so scared of anything in my life. He looked as if I could convict his very soul and damn him to hell with a single word.</p><p>"You need to start coming home at mealtimes," I finally said. "Auntie can't run everything alone. And help me figure out what the hell I'm doing with all this foreknowledge." </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Tsunade Retrieval (1)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Previously: Suzu meets the rest of the Earthlings; an unexpected visitor shows his displeasure; Souhei and Suzu meet again for the first time since their fight.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tsubasa, after I visited again the following week and was on my way out, pestered Kyouya to give me a room in the same hall as his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh no, I couldn't," I tried to refuse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I insist," Kyouya laughed. "Everyone has one. Even Isana has one and she swore never to use it. You're under no obligation whatsoever to stay in it, of course, but regardless of what you say I'm setting one aside for you, so you might as well accept it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You should just humor him," Tsubasa said to me later as he saw me off at the gate. "There are a hundred empty rooms in this place. His family's all dead except for Nana and her parents, really. It makes him happy to have people around."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh," I said. "That's…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He's really chill," Tsubasa added. "He'll be pleased just seeing your face, to be honest, he doesn't care much if you talk to him or not. Though that makes him happy, too."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is that why you live here?" I wondered. "You two seem pretty close."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I'd say that's a good part of it," Tsubasa replied meditatively. "I could definitely live on my own if I wanted. But Kyouya's a great housemate. And you know, this place is huge so you can give a lot of space if you need to, and it's really private, so I don't have to worry about people dropping in on me, either. There's freedom," he added. "It's a free sort of place."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's beautiful, too," I offered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah. You should see it in the fall. The autumn leaves are great."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a short silence as we stood together at the entrance to the estate. It was quiet even with the large wooden door hanging ajar. It was still early enough that the birds were singing, so we spent a moment listening to their music.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, good luck today," Tsubasa said after the pause had passed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah," I replied. "Thanks. And… good luck to you, too."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tsubasa flashed a crooked grin at me. "Oh, it's all business as usual for me," he told me lightly, pushing on the gate so we could step out side-by-side. "No luck needed at all."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I smiled. Tsubasa smiled, too, and we bumped fists.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll see you around, then?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah. I'll come back when I'm free."</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The hush that fell as I passed was like a strange inverse swell. The noise would dip and rise and return to its original volume, and the effect fanned out from me in a cone as I walked the hall to the Hokage's office. Faces turned away when my eyes slid past. I wondered what they were saying—bad gossip, like the kind I'd heard from my former instructors, or something else? I considered the eavesdropping techniques but then decided I'd rather not distract myself from the confrontation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Imouto-sama!" a secretary flew out to meet me when I came to a stop before the office door. I did my best to suppress my grimace and wondered if there was a way to disavow myself of the title without sending the wrong message.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"How can I help you today, imouto-sama?" the woman asked as she clutched her clipboard. "Have you come to meet the Hokage?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, if he's not busy," I replied. She shuffled through her papers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Let's see, his next appointment… he should be free until the afternoon," the secretary determined. "Shall I let him know—?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's all right," I said, already fixed on the door. I knocked twice and opened it without waiting for a reply. "Thank you for your help."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman was still blinking owlishly as I shut it behind me. It was rude, but it was best not to give Minato the chance to suddenly find urgent business before I had the opportunity to say my piece.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was eyeing the door expectantly when I turned around, but his expression quickly morphed into shock. He hadn't heard me coming. That made me feel oddly prideful. Even though I already knew I could dodge ANBU, for me, Minato was the original sensor. If I could hide my signature from him, I thought with absurd pleasure, was there anyone I couldn't hide from?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His jaw was still hanging slightly agape when I went and stood before his desk. His eyes flickered as he looked me head to toe. I'd had to requisition new gear. Earlier I'd gone to put on my uniform and found that, from my sandals to my vest, nothing fit me anymore. I'd had a growth spurt in the past half-year. I was getting pretty tall; I'd probably be approaching my final height soon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hokage-sama," I said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His jaw snapped shut and his face immediately schooled itself into blank neutrality.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Good morning," he said softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Good morning," I replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"...It's been a while. How can I help you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I felt my eyebrow tick but fought to keep my expression neutral. How could he help me, he says. Was that the game he was going to play? Did he think I came here to play games?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I am going to the Missions Desk for work today," I said flatly. "Please remove my ban."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Minato flinched. I narrowed my eyes as he fell silent. He set down his pen and leaned back in his chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, I understand," he murmured after a long moment. His eyes skittered to the side, refusing to meet my stare. "You… are granted permission to return to work."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Easier, I thought, than expected. How surprisingly meek of him. Maybe Tsubasa's good luck was more efficacious than I'd expected.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I let out a long breath through my nose. It would be nice if that was it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thank you, Hokage-sama," I uttered as I turned away. Whatever was going on there I'd figure it out another time; I had no mind to linger. "I'll take my leave."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Wait," Minato said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I paused and looked over my shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I—" he began. He stretched a hand out as if he were going to say something. I raised my eyebrows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I—have something to assign you," he uttered as he replaced his hand on his desk, looking cowed. "A mission, I mean. It's… been put off for too long."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was unexpected. From indefinite suspension straight into a personally assigned mission, and from the man who had suspended me no less. I turned to face him fully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Report to the eastern briefing room in a half hour," Minato said. "You'll… get the details then." He paused as if he wanted to say more, but then he shuffled his papers and looked downward. "That's all."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I, for my part, was not controlled enough to keep the resentment out of my reply. Six months starving his cousin out of the Forces, piling financial burden on the House that raised him, spitting on my efforts to save his life, and that was all? Not an acknowledgement of anything? No apology, no regret?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Good day, Hokage-sama," I uttered.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>"Suzu!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I found myself being swept up in a pair of very strong arms. I made a squeaking noise as my ribs were crushed against Kushina's. She laughed and pushed our cheeks together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh my gosh, what happened to you?" she exclaimed after she had released me and begun comparing our heights. When I'd last seen her I'd barely cleared her waist, but now I was standing just about equal to her shoulders. "This is insane! What in the world? You weren't this size before!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I opened my mouth, blinking in bemusement, before a patch of white caught my attention. Jiraiya was standing on the other side of the briefing table. He was scrutinizing me intently. His eyes flicked towards Kushina; then they flicked back to me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's not looking too hopeful, kid," he finally said after a long moment. I was stumped as to what sort of greeting this might be and worried for a moment that something about the mission was going to go sideways. Before I could say anything, though, Kushina let out a noise of affront. She was across the room and driving her fist into his face in the blink of an eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You can't say that to a teenager, Jiraiya-sensei," she hissed. "What are you even trying to compare? I just had a baby!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I blinked. And then I put my hand on my face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Seriously?" I asked. "You cannot possibly expect a thirteen-year-old to have a chest in any way comparable to the mother of a six-month-old."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Disgusting," Kushina added with a scowl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?" Jiraiya complained, rubbing his cheek as he got up off the ground. "It's not like I tried to watch her change or feel her up or anything. She's a kid, that's gross."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kushina threw her hands up as she walked back over to me. I just sighed again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So what's going on, Kushina-nee?" I asked. "Are we going on a mission together?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kushina's thunderous expression immediately brightened. "That's right," she enthused. "You catch on quick. It's a mission for just you and me! And that lech over there, I guess."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey," Jiraiya said sulkily. "That's not true. If anything this is my mission. You two are just support."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What are we doing?" I asked as Kushina reached for me again. I held out my arms and let her smother me in another hug. "Are we—oof—are we going somewhere?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's one way of putting it," Jiraiya snorted. "Pack your bags and tell your folks, kiddo, we're gonna be gone for a while."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I blinked. "Why?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We're going on a search to bring Princess Tsunade home," he replied.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>"The Tsunade search isn't meant to take place for another twelve years," I mused over my packing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And at this point in time she's only been gone for a few years," Uncle added thoughtfully as he sealed an extra whetstone into a scroll for me. I regarded him with surprise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"She didn't leave as soon as the war ended?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hm, no, she didn't…" He stared thoughtfully into the middle distance. "She waited for Shizune to obtain her field certification, probably. In the Third War it was made permissible to take journeymen medics out of the village on duty, but during our time it wasn't allowed. If she wanted Shizune with her she had to have waited."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But they're not on a mission. They're just wandering the country, gambling and running from debt collectors," I replied quizzically. Uncle gave me a wry look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's the reality of it," he agreed, "but since Tsunade is on sabbatical and that counts as village travel, Shizune is technically on duty as long as she's accompanying Tsunade as an apprentice."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My eyebrows shot up. "But in the original series she was gone for almost two decades, wasn't she? Sabbaticals don't last that long."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You would have no way of knowing this because it was never explained in the story," Uncle began, "but the truth is the village cut a deal with Tsunade. She was going to leave either way, so as a reward for her contributions to the war, they sent her out on an 'extended sabbatical'—" here he made air quotations— "because they didn't want to have to declare her a missing-nin."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is that true?" I said, shocked. "I… I suppose it could make sense. She was pretty apathetic about Konoha as a whole by the time Naruto and Jiraiya got to her. I never thought she would be willing to become a nuke-nin, though."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Nobody else wanted to think it either. Lucky it didn't come to that, I suppose."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're quite well-informed."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I was a medic on the Suna front. Tsunade was our commanding officer for the majority of the war," he pointed out. "She returned to Konoha almost immediately after Katou-san died. It was a huge debacle—she would've been declared AWOL if not for her status. There was no way we couldn't have known… we were just ordered not to spread it around."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh." I stared over at him. "That makes sense. She did make herself famous by no-selling all of Chiyo's poisons, after all…" Still, to think Uncle Souhei had been serving side-by-side with Tsunade herself, reporting to her on a daily basis.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Her knowledge of toxicology is second to none. She created countless antidotes… Before she left she even pioneered a procedure to physically remove poison from the body by hand." Uncle Souhei's expression turned a little distant. "For all the good it did us. By the Battle of the Black Sands the number of medics was only an eighth of what it had been originally. They told us that as long as we had that procedure we wouldn't have to worry even if we couldn't engineer an antidote. But there weren't nearly enough of us to treat every poisoned combatant by hand."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So there was no choice but to try and devise an antidote anyway," I concluded pensively. "Without her."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We did do our best," Uncle sighed. "The senior medics. But we had all been brought in for different specializations—trauma, chakra pathways, genjutsu neurology, you know. They had meant the senior council of iryou-nin to compliment one another without overlap. She left on such short notice that we had no time to acquire another toxicologist to replace her. It was a failure of logistics to not have a backup specialist in place, I suppose."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"From what I understand, logistics at the end of the war was mostly failure everywhere," I said softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"True. The losses were unsustainable at the end. We were just lucky that Suna gave out first. The bigger village wins the war of attrition, I guess," Uncle Souhei sighed again. Then he gathered up the scrolls around him. "Here. You should be good for at least a month with these provisions. I imagine you'll restock along the way if your journey lasts any longer than that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thank you," I replied. "Jiraiya-sama said it could be a long time, so I imagine we'll have to."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Suzu?" Auntie's voice called from downstairs. "Kushina's here, she's waiting for you, are you ready?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I'm coming!" I called, stopping at the mirror to quickly grab a ponytail holder and twist my hair into a low bun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Here," Uncle Souhei said and handed me a shiny braided dark blue cord, tipped at both ends with teardrop-shaped beads. My eyebrows shot up, but my puzzlement faded the moment it touched my fingertips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's wire!" I stared at it, agape. "Ninja wire! What?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If you undo both beads at the ends it'll unravel. If you only need a loop, just undo the cross-notched one."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Wow," I breathed as I channeled chakra and found the telltale low resistance of conduction. "I cannot fathom how long it took to make this." The cord was probably as long as my arm, if not longer. "How many meters?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Four spools, so…" Uncle furrowed his brow. "2,600, I guess? But it's the smallest gauge on the market, so if you use it for anything other than cutting, you'll have to double or triple it up."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I looked at him in awe. 2.6 kilometers of wire. Over a mile of chakra conduction in my hair. This, I realized, had the potential to be one of the most expensive weapons I'd ever laid hands on. Chakra conductive wire itself was not cheap, even in the thickest gauges; I knew this personally, having purchased several coils myself for the Strings of Fate seals. The craftsmanship and labor required to not only make the metal this thin but to color it too was unimaginable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Where did you get the money?" I asked in a hush. Six months of financial hardship were still heavy on my shoulders. I didn't know how to react to the thought of someone dropping such a small fortune on me, not when I had been putting the House into the red for the past half year.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Kyouya," Souhei replied. "Though Isana was the one who suggested it. She is, apparently, friends with a Special Forces smith who specializes in disguising weapons as hair ornaments."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My mouth popped open. Souhei smiled a bit as he tugged on my shoulder and began pulling me downstairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I was told there is seal work on the beads," he added, "so if you do end up undoing the whole thing you can re-wind it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I just shook my head and lifted my arms to tie it in a bow around my bun. I had to thank Isana and Kyouya when I next saw them. To think there was fuuinjutsu incorporated into it, too. It was probably even more expensive than I'd initially imagined.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why?" I asked as we began making our way down the stairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I asked Kyouya that a lot when I first met him," Uncle Souhei replied, dropping his voice as Kushina and Jiraiya appeared in our sights.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What did he say?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"'Why not?'" my uncle answered. We reached the bottom of the stairs and he leaned forward to press a kiss to my forehead. "Travel safely, Misuzu."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Uncle smiled at Kushina and briefly took her hand as he swept past. He even managed a cordial nod towards Jiraiya before he slid into the kitchen and out of sight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, ojisan seems different," Kushina remarked as Auntie let out a happy, disbelieving laugh and followed after her husband. Jiraiya stared after them with unconcealed shock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He does, doesn't he?" I smiled in reply.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>We set out from Konoha in the midmorning. Jiraiya, for all his bluster, had spoken the truth in the briefing room—this was his mission. Neither Kushina nor I had any earthly idea where Tsunade might be or even how to begin searching for her. He was the only one who knew how to find her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I encountered a spymaster in his work for the first time that day. I knew in an abstract way how the intelligence machine functioned, of course, and I knew distantly that Naoto had spent a lot of time coordinating people in the same manner, but it was another thing to see it in person. Following the Toad Sage across roads, waiting in nondescript corners of the country for nondescript folk to drop nondescript packages, watching him sit in contemplative silence and uncipher reports entirely in his head…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Kid," he said one day while we were sitting idle after breakfast at a roadside inn. "How far along were you in your training?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Formally? Not terribly," I replied wistfully. "I wasn't with the unit long before I was forcibly reassigned. They sent me off with study materials, though. I kept up with those."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though lately even that cache had dwindled into its last remnants. I had saved the jutsu for last, but with all my recent misadventures in total erasure and chakra tracking, there was little material left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sounds like your training's more on the infiltration than the espionage side of things," Jiraiya concluded upon hearing this. "Fair, I guess. Can't learn to run before you learn to walk. Still, if this is your chosen field, it probably couldn't hurt to learn how to compile data. C'mere, I could use a second set of brain cells."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Managing direct reports and raw information from several different sources was never something I had expected to do. The internal intelligence network in Fire Country—the one which held jurisdiction over all domestics—was fully populated with spymasters already and most of them already had successors at their sides, training and familiarizing themselves with the particular roles of their teachers so they could take over their respective rings in the web with minimal disturbance. Those were people whose names had never reached the international stage. As a wanted Bingo Book mark I was thoroughly disqualified from ever holding such an office, so I had never given it much thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the external network—well. That was an entirely different beast, and one magnitudes larger than the internal network, too. In the external network international infamy didn't matter a whit. Case in point—Jiraiya was about as infamous as a man could get on this continent. The domestic scene was too small and too easily disrupted to have big names wading about, but abroad…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's the reality of it, kiddo." Jiraiya waved a hand. "Honestly, now that Minato's the Hokage and your face is attached to his, you might have to give up your dreams as a domestic. It was different when you were just another minor clan orphan, but now you're just too big a fish. The pond can't hold you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm going to disappear off the face of the planet," I replied sourly to this. "Just give me a few years. They'll forget me if I don't show my face outside the village long enough."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Also a viable option, I guess. I know some folk who did similar things when the Second War ended—pretending to retire from injury, faking their deaths, stuff like that. You could buy some anonymity back if you manage it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You don't plan on sticking in the general platoons, Suzu?" Kushina asked curiously. She picked up her chair and moved with me as I went to sit beside Jiraiya and his table full of scrolls. When I had settled she resumed braiding my hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No. I never wanted to go back," I said bitterly. "I've had enough of the platoons. Intel suits me better."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Huh. I'd thought you'd stick with Team 7. Kakashi will be disappointed to hear it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What a perplexing thought that was. Kakashi and I had made peace, true, and in these days we could probably even be considered fairly good work friends; but I didn't think he was that invested in me as a member of Team 7. Even if we had become more familiar in the wake of the Sakuya mission, I was not actually entirely certain he really cared much for me beyond my utility as a competent squadmate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Cold!" Jiraiya chuckled. "Glad to see the new generation's just as full of heartbreakers as the last."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You make it sound so sordid," I rolled my eyes. "We haven't spoken since I got suspended, really, it's been half a year since I've even seen the guy." He hadn't shown his face once since my ban had been handed over. I'd just assumed he'd gone the way of the rest and was trying to avoid losing face through association.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh boy," Kushina began to laugh. "Well, that makes sense. Hey, Suzu?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The thing about Kakashi is that his work friends </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> his friends," she informed. "By his standards, you're fairly close. The problem is that he has zero clue how to initiate social visits, and since you got suspended he doesn't have a reason to see you. That's why it seems like he's been ignoring you. He only interacts with people through work or when they invite him first. "</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My eyebrows shot up. Jiraiya snorted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Prodigies," he scoffed and shook his head. "You will never find more lopsided people. Anyway, can you shut up a second, Kushina? I need to teach this brat how to read reports."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kushina pouted but resumed twisting my hair into buns. Jiraiya took a stack of scrolls and dropped them in front of me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"All right. The first thing you want to do after picking up a drop…"</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>After several hours had passed my brain was swimming with classification questions. Is it a primary source or is it hearsay? Is it political news? Economic? Ninja or civilian? Domestic or foreign? Is it geographically relevant to our current area? Is it news from an informant or was it gathered in-house? Who gathered it? Why?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"—and once you've triaged all that, you can start categorizing what's useful to your current objective—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, enough!" Kushina groaned and gave Jiraiya's shoulder a shove. "Let's go eat, old man. We can argue about whether or not some B-rank missing-nin loose on the other side of the country is relevant to looking for Tsunade-sama later."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jiraiya grumbled but acquiesced. He set down the scroll and stood. Then he blinked at me and stared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?" I asked as I stood and stretched myself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You look like Mito-sama," he replied. "Or, well, your hair does."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Eh?" I asked. Kushina clapped and rushed me over to a mirror. I was treated to the sight of dango buns on both sides of my head, each with two loops of braided hair hanging beneath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Lots of Uzumaki girls wore this hairstyle," Kushina explained happily as she patted the buns. "I did too back when I lived in Uzushio. You're actually supposed to hang talismans instead of hair," she added, pointing to the braids, "but I don't have any, and they're too annoying to use day-to-day anyway. I always got in trouble for getting mine wet."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was a fun piece of trivia. Odango hair wasn't unusual in Fire Country but it was interesting to hear it had history for Kushina. I turned my head from side to side contemplatively.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I never saw you with your hair like that," Jiraiya said quizzically.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I guess that's not a surprise." Kushina took on a bit of a wistful look. "I wanted to fit in in Konoha so badly. I never did my hair like this because I thought it made me look like an outsider. I'd always take it down when my mother came to visit and did my hair this way…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I stared a little harder and the construction of the hairstyle before I nodded. "I can do your hair like this later if you want," I told her. Kushina regarded me with surprise. Then she smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah, Jiraiya-sensei, she's such a sweetie!" she laughed and pinched my cheeks. "Hey, think we can keep her after the mission's over?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's on you. I don't want any brats in my house." Jiraiya held up a hand and made a pass motion. "She's all yours."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're all mine, Suzu!" Kushina sang, delighted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, dear," I said, but I laughed, too.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Tsunade Retrieval (2)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Previously: Suzu takes her business to the Hokage; Souhei shares a story about Tsunade; Kushina, Jiraiya, and Suzu set out on a mission.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"So Naruto's really all right without you?" I asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"For the time being he has to be," Kushina replied. "I'm not happy about it, but Minato wasn't lying. We should have been out looking for Tsunade-sama months ago. The sooner we can help Rin-chan get better, well, the better. You know?" </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dattebane</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I thought. Until now she hadn't been saying it and I found myself suddenly fighting back a smile. In a way it made things feel like she was opening up and showing us her true personality—not filtered for mainstream consumption, but Kushina Uzumaki as she really was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The Council's in a big twist," Jiraiya said absently as he checked the position of the sun and scanned the horizon searchingly. "Every day Obito sits in prison with his head still attached is a massive security threat as far as Danzou and his crowd are concerned. Minato's doing his best to hold them off, but there's been friction with the Military Police lately. Anti-Uchiha sentiment seems to be climbing in the upper brass," he added meaningfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A twofold problem. Minato obviously would do what he could to keep Obito safe, but Obito was a massive problem whether he was dead or alive. Alive, he could break out and finish the deed he'd come to do; dead, he could be a major accelerant for the Uchiha coup d'etat. There was very little that could be done in this situation by anyone who was not Obito himself. And not only was the path out from here a narrow one, but without Rin Obito was highly unlikely to even step foot on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sighed. These were not unexpected developments, but nevertheless it was the first I was hearing of any of it, and I was reminded of just how thoroughly I'd been locked out of the loop I'd set out to help create. I couldn't do anything to help this situation even if I wanted to—nothing beyond pestering Jiraiya, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A familiar silence settled over the group as we continued to sit on the forest floor and stare up into the trees, waiting. That was quickly shaping up to be the greatest lesson of this mission—waiting. Even Kushina was better at it than me. That was vaguely surprising, but at the same time maybe it shouldn't have been. A fiery temper did not necessarily equate to an impatient personality, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was getting better at it spending my time intelligently, though. Having spent the last half-year without any sort of practice whatsoever, this excess of downtime had been very conducive to regaining extra-fine chakra control. The various blending and layering techniques were still accessible to me but it took some work to figure out signature erasure again. I spent several days closing specific tenketsu around my center—leaving a different portion open each time to prevent any accidents—before I tentatively began trying to shut them all enough to erase my chakra presence. Kushina didn't appear to have any passive sensing abilities so she never noticed, but Jiraiya seemed to find it unsettling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's so creepy when you do that," he complained. "It feels like you've dropped dead or something. Like someone snuck up from behind and just assassinated you while I wasn't looking."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I snuck up on Minato the other day," I bragged off-handedly. "Before we left Konoha."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jiraiya's eyebrows rose. "That must have ended well."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not really. But at least he lifted my mission ban."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was an awkward beat. Jiraiya frowned thoughtfully, but it was Kushina who spoke first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, Suzu," she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's up?" I asked warily. I was well aware that this thing was rapidly evolving from a feud into an estrangement and I had no desire to engineer any situation that would involve taking sides. I liked Kushina quite a lot. She didn't deserve that—and I doubted I would like the result of it, either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kushina gave me a knowing look. Then she came over and sat down next to me on my log.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I didn't get the chance to say this to you when it happened," she began quietly, "but thank you for saving Minato's life."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I blinked, taken aback, because that had not been what I'd been expecting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know you did," she added. "Minato didn't say anything about it, but Jiraiya-sensei told me. Minato would've bled out from that arm injury. He only survived long enough for the ANBU reinforcement to come because you had his back. And because Minato lived," she took a breath, "I lived. My son didn't become a jinchuuriki. And our village was spared."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked at my hands. When she said it like that I sounded unambiguously heroic, but the truth wasn't that simple. Not that I could tell her, I thought as Jiraiya subtly shook his head at me. She wasn't in the know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I—" I shook my head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, hear me out," Kushina insisted. "Listen, okay? My husband is a good man and an incredible ninja but sometimes he's also an idiot. I know that. He's a human being. He's not perfect and I've spent a lot of time trying to tell him that it doesn't matter, but he doesn't believe it, and because of that he does even more stupid stuff. You," she put a hand on my shoulder and leaned forward to look me in the eye, "broke the rules and disobeyed orders, true, and that warranted a censure. But he didn't censure you for that and we all know it—two months of half pay would have been plenty for all that. He censured you for seeing his mistake. He repaid your help with punishment and that's why you're fighting."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Kushina-nee, I—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And you deserve to fight with him," she plowed on determinedly. "He should be fought with. People always indulge his maladaptive nonsense but someday he needs to learn that there are consequences for pushing away his problems and rejecting everything that reminds him of his failures."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I—had said I hadn't wanted her to pick any sides, but was she—?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I love you both," she told me firmly as she wrapped her arms around me in another hug. "I'm not picking sides. I'm telling you to fight with him for his own good, too, because you can help him grow in a way that I can't."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She has the right of it," Jiraiya said quietly when we were on the road again later. "In your case he abused his power. Not even the Nidaime punished active members of the Forces like that—if he really thought you deserved it, he just kicked you out and let you loose to live your life. And though Minato can do what he did because he's the Hokage, that doesn't mean there shouldn't be consequences for it. That's not the kind of village we are."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She made it sound like he was punishing me just to save face. Like it was only because I'd seen him in a bad spot," I shook my head. "But she doesn't know about how I withheld—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It doesn't change anything. He's still using his power as Hokage for his own motivations, not the village's." He waved a hand. "Besides, kid, do you think he can hold your foreknowledge over your head like that? You saved his life. You saved his family and you gave him the means to rescue his student from a half-dead madman bent on destroying the world with genjutsu. He's an ingrate, but he's not an idiot."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Suzu," Jiraiya said, exasperated, as he stopped walking so he could flick me in the forehead. "Look. Kid, we're glad enough that you spoke up. You did good and you mean good for all of us. It's enough. Could you have done differently? Maybe. Can you change it now? No. Look at what you can do in the future instead. Move on. Don't fall into the same trap that he does."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a moment of silence. My lip began to wobble as I looked up at him. Jiraiya took on a look of alarm when water began to gather in my eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh, hey, Kushina, can you—" he called, eyeing me like I was some sort of pipe bomb. I burst into tears and threw my arms in a hug around his waist. "Oh, no, no. Don't do that. It's fine, kid, you're fine, don't—ugh, Kushina!"</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>On the thirty-second day, we found a lead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh? Tell me more." Jiraiya grinned delightedly, leaned forward, and held his cup out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry, stranger, but our guys get first dibs on marks. Outsiders wait a week for info."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't be like that," Jiraiya wheedled as his drink was refilled. "There's plenty of work to go around. I'm not even asking about the whole board—just the one job in particular…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kushina and I exchanged glances as Jiraiya persisted in his cajolery, looking in from the outside. Sauntering into what amounted to a hitman's guild—hidden, of course, in a tavern—with a pretty lady and a teenage girl in tow would bring more attention than was strictly helpful. A lone man looking for work was a far more ordinary and inconspicuous scenario. As inconspicuous as a man of Jiraiya's massive height could be, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What're they saying?" Kushina whispered as she craned her neck and tried to peek through the window. "I can't read their lips from this angle."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll tell you in a second," I shushed. Eavesdropping techniques were only as good as the focus one gave them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tip that Tsunade had been in an altercation with a small-time yakuza enforcer had come in several days ago. In that time Jiraiya had begun hitting every known association of bounty hunters and hitmen that he could find. It was an admirable strategy; not only was he gathering primary intelligence himself by obtaining information from the various wanted persons boards, he also had the opportunity to flag other bounty hunters who made progress in locating her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay, okay… look, I'll tell you, if only because the week's almost up and no one's found her yet." The bartender sighed, beleaguered. "The request comes from the Golden Vine House. She lost big at the tables and skipped town before paying her dues, and when they sent out a collector she just about knocked the man's face in. She skipped town again after that and headed west. Reports say she has a traveling companion, though no word on whether or not they both can fight. As it is, she's probably several days past the Naka River, and she's likely to continue beating off any pursuers." The bartender took a long drag on his pipe and blew out a plume of smoke in Jiraiya's direction. "Honestly, if you're looking for a quick mark, this probably ain't it. This job's been through two towns before mine and no one's nabbed her yet—seems like she might have some sort of ninja training, she knows how to hide a trail. None of the regular crowd's been able to keep an eye on her for longer than a day."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite this pessimistic assessment Jiraiya looked to be seconds away from a merry cackle. "Thanks, man," he smirked instead as he dropped his payment on the counter. "I appreciate it. You've been a great help."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I ducked back down and reported the contents of the conversation to Kushina as Jiraiya withdrew and circled around the building to regroup with us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Catch that, brat?" he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," I replied. "Looks like we're heading west?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Looks like we're heading west."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We departed an hour later after resupplying. Though I was without a doubt the physically weakest of all of us, a month of training on the road had done wonders for helping me regain my stamina, and I felt no strain in keeping pace with my companions even when we ran at full speed. We flew past the Naka River's southern ford and angled towards the closest city with a casino.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn't as easy as all that, though. We spent three days there scoping out the inns and the various gambling establishments before writing this particular town off as a bust. The next one over did not produce results either. We began to feel disheartened as we continued to roam along the river, wondering if we had been too slow to catch her after all. We checked into an inn in a nearby town in discouraged gloom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, on the forty-seventh day of the search, we found Tsunade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More specifically we found the teenage boy kneeling at her door. He had his forehead pressed to the hardwood floor and was pleading to a closed door, "Lady Tsunade, I beg of you, please take me as your student."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We halted. I exchanged looks with Kushina; Kushina turned to look at Jiraiya. Jiraya, for his part, was stepping over the boy and rapping on the door before anyone else had the time to react. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I—" the boy immediately straightened and looked up at Jiraiya, but Jiraiya just ignored him and continued knocking insistently. Kushina and I came over to stand nearby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Several moments passed without answer, but Jiraiya set his jaw determinedly and persisted in his knocking. Several heads poked out from other doors in the hall, grumbling about noise, and I shifted awkwardly, but he was unbothered. And then, finally, she answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I told you," came the growling voice, "I am not taking you as a student—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, Tsunade," Jiraiya replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tsunade stopped short. There was a long pause. Then the crack in the door widened and I saw her face peering out from within, suspicion in her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...What are you doing here?" she asked, guarded. She looked as if she might slam the door shut again at a moment's notice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What, it's the first time we see each other in ages and that's all you have to say to me?" Jiraiya asked. "I'm hurt."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You never bring anything but trouble. What do you want? And who are these two?" Her hazel eyes shifted to peer narrowly at Kushina and me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tsunade-sama, it's an honor to meet you." Kushina stepped up and bowed at the waist so deeply that her long braid fell over her shoulder and reached for the floor. "My name is Kushina Uzumaki. My husband Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage—"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not interested," Tsunade immediately cut her off, moving to shut the door. Jiraiya's arm shot out and held it in place. She scowled up at him, but he just responded by stepping forward, forcing the door open as he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...What's the matter with you?" Tsunade asked guardedly as Jiraiya stared down at her. His face had shed all pretense of levity. I hadn't seen him so serious since he'd mistaken me for a foreign agent and assaulted me in an empty alleyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We wouldn't be here if there were any other option," he said. "You know I don't bother you unless there's no other choice."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do know," Tsunade grumbled. "That's why I hate seeing you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kushina and I shared a wince but Jiraiya took this in stride, too. He was made of tough stuff in every sense of the word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let us in, Tsunade," he said. "At least hear what we have to say."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why should I?" she snapped back. She spread her feet and locked herself in that stance, defiant. The two Sannin immediately descended into a battle of wills.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Several moments went by. Then a minute, then two. Kushina and I exchanged glances. The boy on the floor looked up at us, bewildered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Umm," I finally said after it was clear that this would go on until someone put a stop to it. I thought about something that could break the tension. "Tsunade-sama, you're really pretty. Could you show me how to get my hair like yours?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jiraiya and Tsunade broke off their staring contest to give me incredulous looks. I held up my hands. After a moment Jiraiya began to laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tsunade regarded me with a flat stare. I gave her my most polished I&amp;E smile in reply, squinting and sweet and as disarming as can be. She let out a noise of faint disgust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You brought one of them with you?" she asked Jiraiya. "What's an Intel brat doing here?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know what you're talking about," Jiraiya replied, aloof. "Misuzu Namikaze is a skilled member of the general platoons, formerly of the Fourth Hokage's own four-man-cell. She is not a representative of the Intelligence Division."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he did not, I noted with amusement, deny that I had ties to the Intel Division. Well, that was probably for the best.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now you just make it sound like she's undercover," Tsunade commented. Then she sighed and put a hand on her forehead as she kicked the door open the whole way. "Ugh. Get in, oaf."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm contemplating shorter chapter sizes, which might make it easier to post more often. This is probably the length I'll be shooting for from now on. Does it feel all right?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Tsunade Retrieval (3)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Previously: Suzu makes use of her time on the road; Kushina and Jiraiya both speak to her about Minato; the Tsunade Retrieval Team comes across its first proper lead.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"I’m not interested,” Tsunade said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jiraiya inhaled deeply. Then he began again, “Tsunade-hime, just listen. Like I said, we need—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard what you said,” she snapped. “And I’m telling you I don't care. You’re wasting your time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tsunade-sama, please,” Kushina tried. “The Hokage sent us specifically to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then he’s sent you on a fool’s errand. If you want to be angry, be angry with him. I’m not going back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some things, I thought as I shook my head with silent wonder, never changed—even things that hadn't happened. Tsunade looked over to where I was sitting and sent me a sour look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And? Anything from you, bratling?” she sneered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How rude. She was definitely, I decided, trying her best to scare me off with attitude. I replied by tilting my head and giving her a vacuous smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not fooling me with any of that,” she said flatly. “There’s no way an intel-nin on a mission like this is half as useless as you’re pretending to be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, but there’s where you’re wrong, Tsunade-sama.” I laughed rather genuinely at that. “I am the very definition of superfluous window dressing. He would’ve sent this team without me if I hadn’t horned in on it at the last possible moment.” And I knew that to be true, because they had been mere hours from departure when I’d appeared unannounced at his office and demanded work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suzu-chan…” Kushina frowned at me. Jiraiya eyed me contemplatively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t sound too pleased with him,” Tsunade noted. She squinted at me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Neither do you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not. But I’m not the one running missions for him. If you care for him as little as you imply, what are you even doing here?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I contemplated that for a long moment. Well, there were a variety of reasons, and I was under no obligation to share any of them or even to tell her the truth. But after a moment I decided that I could part with some portion of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Collecting a paycheck,” I said, figuring that like appealed to like. “I’m coming off a six-month suspension. I need money.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that’s all, is it?” Tsunade looked as unimpressed as ever. It figured she would know how to cut past half-truths. I shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, of course not. I’m very personally invested in the patient the Hokage wants you to heal. I want you to come back just as desperately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’ll convince me by sitting in the corner and smiling at me like a bimbo, will you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even I had to frown a bit then. If she kept that up she would reach Daisuke levels of aggression in half as much time. Still, negotiations were an art. I schooled my face back into neutrality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Tsunade-sama,” I simpered at her in the most intentionally exaggerated way I knew how. “When I’m out to convince you, you’ll know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you got a plan to convince her?” Jiraiya asked in the hall after the meeting had broken for a quick break. I suspected Tsunade was just stalling until Shizune returned and they could find a way to give us the slip together. Evidently Kushina was of the same mind since she stayed back in an attempt to continue persuading her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all,” I replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Then it was all talk!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course it was all talk. Who do you take me for?” I half-laughed, half-snorted at him. “Someone with actual smarts and authority?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you might have at least a little bit of cleverness hidden in your sleeve somewhere,” he grumbled. “Minato’s brat Kakashi likes to bust out strategies now and then. It’s not unreasonable to think that you might do the same.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How flattering. Kakashi’s a genius, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re not? With the company you keep…” he gave me a side-eye. I smiled at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the brilliance of it, don’t you think? Tsunade-sama doesn’t know me. She only knows the company I keep, so she can only assume she has to treat me with as much caution as she would the rest of you. I don’t need to be anything more than hot air as long as I can keep up the appearance of having a gambit. I suppose in this case my mysterious origins as an intel shinobi play to my advantage.” I patted his arm. “Good move, Jiraiya-sama.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right, so Tsunade’s leery of you. What does that accomplish?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, more time for you and Kushina-nee to work something out, obviously. If she weren’t worried about me springing some kind of trap I get the impression she’d be long gone from here already.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jiraiya could only pinch the bridge of his nose at that. “You… I hate that I can’t even disagree with you. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wasn’t worried about her escaping. Truth be told, finding Tsunade’s not the hard part, even if it does take a while. It’s keeping hold of her that’s the real challenge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We shared a slightly weary chuckle before transitioning into a moment of companionable silence. I glanced over the hall. The boy from before was nowhere to be seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does she think I could possibly do to her, anyway?” I wondered aloud a minute or so after that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not her, I think, but Shizune more likely,” Jiraiya decided after a short pause. “Intel-nin have a way of dropping bombs and blackmail out of nowhere. Tsunade’s cut most of her ties, but Shizune’s still got family in Konoha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has Shizune-san done anything worth blackmail?” I regarded him skeptically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, probably not. But she does have a number of aging relatives. It would only take a few well-placed comments to remind her of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would Shizune-san leave Tsunade-sama’s side for that, though?” Judging by how long she had stuck with her teacher in the original series, I doubted it. By that time it was likely that some of her family really had already passed, but she had been right with her all the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm. Maybe not. In that case, she’s worried you’ll find a way to talk her around to our cause. Unlike Tsunade, Shizune’s got a sense of ethics and a backbone besides—push her enough on her morals and she’ll push back just to prove you wrong. If she finds out about Rin’s story in the right way there’s a good chance she’ll start doing her best to convince Tsunade to return.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm. I guess Tsunade-sama doesn’t have a problem blowing us off, but Shizune-san must be her weak spot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And she knows it. And to add to it, you’re I&amp;E, aren’t you? Your lot’s trained to talk people into becoming traitors. It’s all part of acquiring informants and gathering intelligence. And for all Shizune’s devoted to Tsunade… she is a Konoha-nin, too.” Jiraya’s face became thoughtful. “Now that I think about it, Minato really is sly. If all else fails, we really can try this tactic. It must be why he sent you. You’ll have practiced at least a bit, even if you weren’t with Imasaki and his crowd for long, and I could tell you how to do the rest. It wouldn’t work coming from me because they both know me, but from a sweet-faced, sympathetic stranger like you, at odds with her Hokage but working hard to save her friend despite it…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was an immediate sourness in my mouth. That made me doubly resistant to the idea of it. I couldn’t push back on it just for that, though. But even then…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think it’s the favorable option,” I said. “Even if Shizune-san is her weak spot there’s no guarantee it would work. And it would be preferable not to alienate allies like that. By turning them against each other </span>
  <em>
    <span>or</span>
  </em>
  <span> making them pick sides.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unexpectedly, Jiraiya dropped his large, calloused hand on my head and began ruffling my hair. “You kiddo,” he said with open fondness. “No matter how hard you try to hide it, you’re still soft on the inside, aren’t you? All of your uncute faces are just an act. You don’t want to spoil relationships if you can help it. You care as much as you ever did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I froze up, unsure how to react. I looked up at his face and felt abruptly vulnerable. Even if I tried to cover myself up with cunning and play into the image of a manipulator picking and discarding the best plays, he knew it was an act.  He had seen into my true intentions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the truth either way. If that’s our opening act, we sabotage any further approaches if it fails. They won’t want to deal with the village again, let alone us,” I stalled, still searching for a response. Jiraiya raised an eyebrow at me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm. That’s true,” he said without adding anything more. I bit my lip. Of course—he already knew that. He'd said it himself, hadn't he? If all else fails.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Did you think it wasn’t an act?” I asked in a small voice as he continued to look at me knowingly. I found myself shrinking under his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. Well, for a while I wasn’t sure. When you first handed me that scroll you didn’t behave in any way I’d seen you behave before. It’s why I thought you were an agent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wound my fingers together and looked at the ground. I—supposed it couldn’t be helped. If this was the profession I had chosen I had to get used to the fact that through my actions, no matter what greater good I was aiming for, people were going to get hurt. Maybe not in the same way they would have if I’d cut them, but they would. Intel work was its own kind of violence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a mistake the gentler kinds often mistake when they try to get into this field,” Jiraiya told me quietly. “They think that because there are no knives there’s no blood. But just because they’re not breaking bodies doesn’t mean they’re not breaking hearts. And heaven knows what kind of bloodshed happens then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew it was naive,” I whispered back at him. “Even when I was going into it, thinking that this was the better way. Deep down I still knew. That’s why I still wanted so badly to quit. It’s the only way to really get away from it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you came back. You had an out and you fought to come back despite it. Why’s that?” Jiraiya lowered his massive frame into a crouch so he could look me in the eye. I swallowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I can’t help if I’m running away. No one else can do what I can do,” I breathed. “No one else is in the position to do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not Uncle Souhei, not Daisuke, not Kyouya or Tsubasa or any of the rest of them. No matter how much it hurt to be here, no matter how hard it was to be a ninja, I had decided I would try to change the future. I couldn’t just drop this on others and walk away without really trying to solve the problem—what would I be then? Someone just as Daisuke had said, throwing about lives to ease my own conscience.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s as good a reason as any, kid,” Jiraiya told me softly. “And you know what? I don’t tell you this glibly, and I don’t mean to say that you’re going to get out of this without having to make hard decisions, but let me tell you. If you do this right, and if you learn this trade well—if you really master it—you will find ways to do the things you need to do without destroying others on the way. You can do the things you couldn’t with just your sword.” He took his hand from my head and clapped it to my shoulder. “Become stronger, Suzu. Strength gives you choices. Mercy isn’t something you give. It’s something you earn with your wits and your guts and your determination.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A part of me had wondered in an idle way why a battlemaster like Jiraiya, who was tall and mighty and well-suited to combat, would trade the war-waging ways that had bought him his fame for something like a spy network. At this point in time the Akatsuki, if it had even been formed at all yet, was still pointed to its original purpose; Jiraiya would have no sense of responsibility to track their movements. Orochimaru hadn’t defected yet, either. He’d become a spymaster for a different reason. Maybe this was it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jiraiya gave me a bit of a half-smile before he straightened and gave me a hard slap on the back. The force of it was enough to make me stumble. I turned and opened my mouth but then, before I could say anything, there was a loud crash from Tsunade’s room. We traded looks before hurrying over to investigate. When we opened the door Kushina was standing across an overturned table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come outside, Tsunade-sama,” she said. Her face was stony with anger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going anywhere,” Tsunade informed as she flicked a speck of dirt from her shirt. “Go run along home to your idiot Hokage and tell him you’ve failed. You can’t—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was cut off as Kushina’s hand shot forward and seized her collar. With her red hair flaring out behind her, Kushina leaned forward until her nose was mere inches from Tsunade’s face and said, “Insult my husband one more time, hag, I dare you. Now come outside and fight me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jiraiya and I looked at one another again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you call this the favorable option?” he asked me.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Tsunade Retrieval (4)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Previously: Jiraiya and Suzu speak about strength and mercy; Kushina has no patience for trash talk.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The irony of it was not lost on me. A fiery Uzumaki, angered and fighting for the Hokage's honor, against a jaded and skeptical Tsunade, steadfast in her refusal to return to Konoha. The difference this time, of course, was that Kushina was a grown woman and a jounin in her own right. Whatever this confrontation was going to be, one-sided was not it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is this a good idea?" I asked. Jiraiya, leaning against a nearby storefront with his arms crossed, quirked an eyebrow at me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Could you stop her either way?" he asked archly in reply. Well, he had me there. I wasn't about to step in front of Kushina now. Nor was he, by the looks of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, it may play to our advantage. Kushina's got a lot of charisma. She’s had a gift for convincing people since she was young."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"With her fists?" I watched as she sunk into a wide fighting stance, complete with a derisive spit-to-the-side, punch-fist-in-hand maneuver. It was thuggish in most delightfully Kushina sort of way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"She likes to talk while she fights. I've actually seen her make a few friends that way, believe or not."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Naruto really did take after his mother in every way but looks. I shook my head again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Um…" a new voice spoke then. "Excuse me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jiraiya and I turned our heads simultaneously and found ourselves standing beside a familiar-looking teen, perhaps only a few years older than me. His hair was a ruffled black and his eyes were a light brown; he was dressed in a sleeveless grey yukata of the style common to Fire Country’s inhabitants.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're the kid from the hallway," Jiraiya observed. "The one who wanted to be Tsunade's student."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, sir. It's an honor to meet you, Jiraiya-sama." The boy bowed deeply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hmm. You know me. Who're you, then?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ka—Kanta Kai, sir." The teen swallowed. "I… I have admired the Sannin since I was a child. I have always dreamed of meeting them."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is that so? Good for you," Jiraiya replied dismissively. I looked on this exchange with detachment. It seemed that Jiraiya, while infinitely more amiable than his teammates, could be quite cold in his own way. Kanta looked at me curiously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you perhaps Jiraiya-sama's apprentice?" he asked. I blinked at him, taken aback. Did I look like Jiraiya's student? What a startling thought. Spycraft aside, he was a 6"3' frontline summoner with a totally contrary elemental affinity. Forget hand-to-hand, we didn't even use the same types of ninjutsu.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is it your business?" Jiraiya cut in sharply before I could reply. "Do you need something from us?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I glanced at him and was surprised by how open he was being in his hostility. Sensing that something else was afoot, I kept my silence and did not reply to Kanta's query.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I—I didn't mean to be intrusive, sir, I apologize." Kanta's face flushed red. "I'm sorry to be a bother."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, you are a bother. We have business with Tsunade and we don't have time for you to be butting in. She's not going to take you as a student, so why don't you just get lost?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I—" Sweat began to bead on Kanta's forehead. He looked anxiously at Jiraiya and then at Tsunade in the street. "You don't understand. I have to learn from her—my father fought in the Second War, and Tsunade-sama is—"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Let me guess. He was poisoned and Tsunade was the one who saved his life with the cure," Jiraiya cut him off, looking unsurprised.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kanta blinked. "Yes, exactly," he said in astonishment. "How did you…?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hundreds of kids have tried and failed to apprentice themselves to Tsunade for the exact same reason," the Toad Sage replied. "It doesn't matter. I doubt you could learn anything from her anyway. Save yourself the trouble and scram."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kanta went silent and stared up at him with wide eyes. Jiraiya just turned his gaze back to the road.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What was that about?" I asked after Kanta had turned and slowly shuffled away. "You're not usually that aggro."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Tell me, kid," Jiraiya asked in reply, "what did you think of that brat?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Startled to have had my question answered with a question, I stopped and thought. Then I said, “Sycophantic.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anything else?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bold, I guess?” I pursed my lips and pondered. “And—inquisitive…” I found my mind suddenly flashing back to a dirt road at sunset. The image of Kazuto in civilian clothes, standing at the entrance to the mine and asking curiously about Suzuka’s “cousin” back in the village, flickered across my mind’s eye. “Oh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He was suspicious enough before he began trying to gather intel on us,” Jiraiya muttered darkly. “Mark that one, Suzu. He has a motive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What could it be?” I asked, genuinely stumped. There had been no analogous encounter in the series. Something at the back of my mind fizzled, but no matter how I wracked my brain I came up with nothing. Kanta Kai was no name I knew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I don’t know. I don’t have any info on him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I put my cheek in my hand. That was not helpful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll ask Tsunade-hime what his deal is later. You can—watch it!” Jiraiya yanked me to the side just as there was an almighty explosion of rock and gravel. A chunk of road came flying and crashed into the space in which I had previously been standing. I whipped my head back to the road. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kushina, unbothered by the cloud of dust and grit, ducked lithely beneath Tsunade’s roundhouse kick before stepping smoothly into a lunge. Tsunade sidestepped her elbow and whirled with a punch. Kushina deflected this with a forearm before bringing a knee rocketing up towards Tsunade’s gut; Tsunade spun away and brought her heel down in a vicious dropkick. The resulting crater in the road sent yet more debris flying in our direction, and I quickly slid behind Jiraiya as he threw out a hand to break the largest incoming rock in two.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow,” I uttered as Kushina flew into a flurry of megaton punches. Tsunade’s blocks were unwavering, but each hit landed with such a solid, resonant thud that it made my bones ache just to hear it. Just imagining what bruises Tsunade might have tomorrow made me shudder—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then Kushina stepped left. She feinted, pulled her elbows in, and then decked her opponent right across the face. My hands flew up to cover my mouth as Tsunade, sent sprawling, flew back a whole fifteen feet. Jiraiya’s jaw dropped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” I breathed as I grabbed a hold of his arm. “Did you—did you see that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked stunned. “I’ve never seen someone slug Tsunade like that in my life,” he told me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tsunade didn't stay down long, however. She was on her feet in an instant. Her face, now sporting an incredibly vivid red splotch, took on a look of focus. Kushina spread her feet apart, cranked an eyebrow up, and slapped the side of her leg in taunting, brazen challenge. Even though the match had just started the road was already looking like someone had taken a jackhammer and gone to town tearing it up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, though, Kushina landed no further hits that day. Tsunade began a vicious counterattack; Kushina began a frequent and extended acquaintance with the ground. Like a true Uzumaki, however, every time she went down she picked herself back up and went right back to throwing those same megaton punches.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What the hell is wrong with you?" Tsunade was finally compelled to ask after Kushina had rolled to her feet for the fifth time and launched into another vicious barrage of punches. "You're obviously not going to win. Why are you letting yourself get pounded so badly?" For emphasis, the Slug Princess performed a flawless sidestep and drove her fist right into Kushina's stomach. I cringed as the redhead ploughed headfirst into the crag-filled street.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What the hell is wrong with me?" Kushina panted as she drew herself off of the ground, swiping her sleeve across her face before settling back into a fighting stance. "The better question is what's wrong with you, coward." She spat on the ground. Her saliva was colored a concerning pinkish-red.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Coward?" repeated Tsunade incredulously. "Who are you calling a coward?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kushina's purple-gray eyes were full of fiery distaste, the likes of which I had never seen on her face before. Kushina was many things, but she was not by nature a derisive person. "Who do you think, woman? Do you think I’m talking to the flowers?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tsunade let out a scoff, but the sheer scorn in Kushina's gaze seemed to unsettle her. Her eyes slid away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't believe Konoha has to ask for help from a person like you." The fire in Kushina’s gaze cooled into something colder and more contemptful. "You’re pathetic. The Leaf deserves better."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was not the words themselves that angered Tsunade, I thought, so much as the absolute conviction with which Kushina said them. For a moment all Tsunade could do was stand still and be judged. I wondered how many Leaf-nin out there would dare to call a hero-Sannin pathetic to her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then she snapped her jaw shut. "Who cares about the damn village anyway?" the Sannin snarled. She raised an arm and began charging forward. "If some maniac wants to destroy Konoha, he can go ahead and do it!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Tsunade's knuckles connected with her forehead I thought for sure that Kushina would drop flat. But Kushina put a foot back, stayed upright, and, even as blood began trickling down her face, seized Tsunade's wrist. She yanked her forward. Their heads cracked together; then the blood was leaking from Tsunade's forehead, too. </span>
  <span>She froze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I've never met a woman as big a fucking bitch as you," Kushina snarled, heedless of the way Tsunade's eyes began to grow wide. "Maybe you can take Konoha for granted, but I spent years making it into my home. I don't care if you're just saying things you don't mean because you're angry. That place and every person in it is precious to me. Don't ever speak of it like that again."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then, with no further ado, Kushina wound her arm back and delivered a final teeth-dislodging punch to the face. Tsunade fell into a heap on the road.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a heavy silence. All the frozen passersby who had been hiding along the street began tentatively to emerge from their hiding places. I released my white-knuckled grip on Jiraiya’s sleeve. He didn’t seem to notice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shizune chose that moment to appear with a bag of groceries in her arms and Tonton bouncing obliviously at her heels.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>"I am so sorry for Tsunade-shishou's rudeness," Shizune apologized for the umpteenth time as she healed the gash on Kushina's forehead. "Did you say blood came out when you spat? Are you having a hard time breathing? Do you feel like any of your ribs are broken?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I just bit my tongue when I hit the ground, that's all," Kushina assured her, somehow managing to look quite cheerful and self-satisfied for all the fact that she was utterly covered in dirt and blood. Considering the number of times she had hit the ground I was impressed she was still in one piece. Truly, I thought, this woman is the mother of Naruto Uzumaki.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You fight like a pack of dogs, Kushina-nee," I admired. It was a different sort of ferocity than I was used to seeing—the taijutsu monsters of my childhood had all been of the likes of Akihiko, Minato, and Kakashi, geniuses with perfect form and precision—but she was no less fearsome for it. Kushina shot me a wide grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll say," Jiraiya muttered and shook his head. "When Minato said you'd be coming along, Kushina, I don't think that this was what he had in mind."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you think I overdid it?" she frowned as she took the cold compress Shizune offered her and held it to her cheek. "I haven't let loose like that in a while. Not since I became pregnant with Naruto, anyway."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shizune froze. "Did—" she worked her jaw. "Did you say pregnant?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I had a baby six months ago."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shizune sucked in a sharp breath. Then she resumed checking Kushina over with renewed attentiveness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't judge whether this is a good thing or not," Jiraiya sighed as he massaged his temples, "but if we're lucky, this will help us in the long run… maybe."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you think knocking her teeth out will have been enough to convince her?" I asked curiously. "She put them right back in, anyway."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In fact, Tsunade had healed herself of over half her injuries by the time we had been up the stairs, though she had been trembling the whole while. Kushina, sparing no regard, had marched past wearing her bloody cuts and bruises like badges of honor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, not at all." Jiraiya shook his head. "If anything, she'll be even more opposed to coming back to the village now."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kushina had the grace to look embarrassed. My eyebrows rose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Then how can this help at all?" I asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because now she knows how serious we really are," the Sannin replied. "It's one thing to be politely told of a threat while sitting in a cozy inn room. It's another to be punched across the street over it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, actually, I punched her across the street more because she was badmouthing Minato..."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Anyway, we'll have to stick close and make sure not to lose her before we can convince her," Jiraiya went on, ignoring this pointedly. "Shizune, will you let us know when you plan to set out again?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course, Jiraiya-sama," Tsunade's assistant immediately agreed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shizune was two years older than Kakashi, making her about three years my senior and therefore sixteen. She had been away from the village for around three and a half years, and though she was too loyal to leave Tsunade and return to Konoha on her own, it was obvious that she was more than a little homesick. No wonder Tsunade had worried I might try to turn Shizune to our cause. If I set my mind to it I really probably could, inexperienced or no—she was half in the bag already.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was also already quite competent in iryou ninjutsu. After making sure Tsunade wasn't in too terrible shape she had immediately come over to our room and offered to heal Kushina as an apology. Despite the fact that the fight had triggered a mild episode of Tsunade's blood phobia—and that Kushina had started it—it seemed her apprentice harbored no ill will for it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll excuse myself for now, then," she said after she finished giving Kushina's head one last lookover. "Tsunade-shishou is probably not going to sleep well tonight, so I'll have to get started on some calming teas right away." I noticed her grimace a bit as she was on her way out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Serves her right, the dumb </span>
  <em>
    <span>babaa,</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Kushina grumbled. I was suddenly hard-pressed to conceal my smile over the fact that she was using the exact same insulting nickname her son had come up with. "Let her have nightmares. I'll sleep better for it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Have you always been this vindictive?" Jiraiya wondered. Kushina harrumpthed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I hate people like that," she muttered by way of explanation. "What good does cynicism do for anyone? It's just miserable. So many ninjas would trade everything just to have a village, let alone be so esteemed by it." Her gaze turned distant. "I was lucky enough to have Konoha when </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>village was gone."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In that light it did make sense that Kushina took Tsunade's attitude so personally. She had spent years as an outsider in our village; she held the regard of its people very highly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Now that I stop to think about it, Tsunade probably resents you quite a bit, Kushina," Jiraiya muttered with a frown. "Not that you could be blamed for it. She was just born unlucky, that Tsunade."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took me a moment to process that, but I connected the dots soon enough. Kushina, though, frowned and asked, "What is that supposed to mean?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jiraiya was silent for a moment, contemplating. Then he said, "Maybe it's not my place to tell you her personal history, but I think it's necessary, considering the impact it has on this mission. Kushina, you and Tsunade have a lot more in common than you think…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so it came: the story of Nawaki and Dan, their dreams, and the cursed necklace. Kushina and Tsunade had started in the same place, loving men whose only goals in life had been to become the Hokage, but their places now could not have been more different. Kushina, a brand-new mother, was happily married to the Yondaime Hokage, but where was Tsunade? On the run from debt collectors, drinking and gambling and wandering the country in an attempt to distract herself from the fact that her brother and her lover both went to their graves with their dreams unfulfilled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I listened silently and watched Kushina's face. Angry though she had been, she was not hard-hearted. By the time the explanation was over her mulish expression had softened considerably.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I see," she said softly. "...It doesn't make it any better, but at the very least I won't hold a grudge. She’s been through a lot."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I appreciate that," Jiraiya replied. Then his shoulders drooped and he let a long sigh. "This will probably be twice as hard when she realizes I've spilled the beans. Ugh,” he groaned. "I don't know about you two, but I'm exhausted just thinking about it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Between our arrival, the futile appeals, the fight, its aftermath, and this discussion, the sun had long since set. I suddenly became aware of a throbbing ache in my shoes and shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It’d probably be best to head straight to bed, huh?" Kushina sighed as she looked out the window and came to the same conclusion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After Jiraiya left for his own room Kushina and I changed into nightclothes. There was only one futon, but I had spent my entire life sharing my sleeping spaces. Kushina didn't mind either; apparently she had grown up with cousins as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We often talked a while before falling asleep, but tonight she was quiet. In the silence there was nothing to do but stare at the ceiling-shadows cast by the moonlight and wait for sleep to come. I traced their edges with my eyes, mind wandering; then, just as I was beginning to nod off, Kushina whispered, "I'm glad Minato is alive."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The immediate reaction, angry and still full of hurt, was to say the reverse. But as soon as I thought it I had to rethink it. “I’m not,” I had uttered reflexively in my heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not," meaning "I would rather have him dead."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Would I rather have him dead? I turned over and found myself burying my face in my pillow. I pictured Minato as he would have been on the night of the Kyuubi Attack, lying in the grass with blood pouring from his chest. His eyes would be blank and empty just like the rest of them—like Yoshiya, like Iwao and Ichiei and Hayanari, like all the severed heads of those thirty-some shinobi who had bought me my bounty in the Bingo Book. I had seen those eyes on so many different faces. Even after everything that had happened, did I want to see them on his face, too? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"...I’m glad, too," I whispered back. My chest was full of roiling fire as I said it. It hurt to say it because no matter how angry I was and how much I wanted him to know it, it brought me no happiness at all to imagine a world without him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kushina put a hand on my back as I held my breath against the storm of emotion. It hurt, but it was the truth, and as I lay there bleeding betrayed love into my blankets, I realized how much I missed my big brother.</span>
</p>
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